Convolution
by Ghost Wrider 117
Summary: When a UK agent named Burke seeks help from the Rangers, he draws them into a case darker than they've ever handled before. Gadget's infatuation with Burke makes Chip jealous and threatens their friendship. When Sparky shows up with astonishing news, the Rangers must work with both him and Burke to potentially save the world.
1. Chapter 1

_A note to readers from the U.K.: An exhaustive amount of research was done to make Burke as authentic as possible, but I'm sure there are probably nuances of British speech and mannerisms only natives would be aware of. I am probably also clouded by certain attitudes I unintentionally have that you would consider s__tereotypes. Please don't take offence, and correct me anywhere I may be wrong._

_GW_

* * *

The warehouse was large, even by human standards. Four stories high and better than a hundred yards long. To the average mouse, it was positively cavernous. It provided an almost unending number of hiding places. The hunt had gone on for more than an hour, but Burke was an excellent tracker. It had been a very long time since a target had been able to elude him. He had no intention of breaking that streak tonight.

To his left: a soft scrape, practically inaudible. Followed by a series of ticking sounds even less audible. But to Burke's ears, the sound of his mousy quarry's footsteps on the cold concrete was loud and clear.

He eased around the corner of a large crate. His dark-adapted eyes expertly scanned the gloom. No one was there. But there had been only a moment ago. He held his breath so that even that soft sound would not mask any others. He heard nothing.

He dropped to all fours so he could get his nose to the ground. His sense of smell might not be as good as a dog's, but he felt that for a mouse, it was exceptional. And more than up to this task. Whiskers twitching, he slowly followed the spoor across the aisle to another crate, and a small hole in the side of it. He smiled and stood.

With an alarmed yelp his quarry shot from the hiding place and charged down the aisle. Burke gave chase. He was an experienced runner, but his smaller opponent was outpacing him. Not by much, but it was enough to stymie Burke's pursuit.

He chased the smaller mouse up a stack of boxes, across a catwalk, and up a metal stair leading to another catwalk that ran around the perimeter of the warehouse just below the ceiling. His quarry was slowing. Faster than Burke, but apparently not at the peak of physical performance, as he was. The smaller mouse was nearly out of gas, but Burke was barely winded. Not that it mattered too much. They were approaching a dead end, then the chase would be over. Sure enough, after another right turn, the catwalk ran another twenty feet and came to an end. Burke slowed to a walk. His quarry would never get past him, and the only other way off the catwalk was forty feet straight down.

He approached slowly.

"Game's over," he said. "You might as well give up."

"Never!" the smaller mouse said, chest heaving to catch his breath.

"Face it, you're caught, and now I'm going to bring you in. Don't make it hard on yourself."

"If you think I'm going _anywhere_ with you, you've got another think coming."

Burke held his hands out in a supplicating gesture.

"Relax, I just want to ask you a few questions."

"Yeah, I know _exactly_ what you want to ask me. And I ain't talking. Not to you, or anyone with you."

"Now, look, we both know the only way you're getting out of here is with me. Just make it easy and I'll see to it you're treated fairly."

The smaller mouse made a derisive sound and a rude suggestion. Burke felt his temper rising to the limits of his control. He approached to just outside of arm's reach.

"All right, old chap, I'm going to give you one more chance to make this easy, then we do it the hard way."

The smaller mouse rose to his full height, taking a deep breath and raising his chin proudly.

"You'll never get what you want," he said.

"We'll just see abou-."

The mouse turned and leapt from the catwalk. Burke dove to the edge, but his prey had already disappeared into the darkness. He never cried out. The only noises he made were the dull thud of his body impacting the concrete far below and the accompanying sound of shattering bone.

Burke stared into the gloom in shock and disbelief. He was at a loss now. The man had been his only lead. He stood and took a deep breath. Somehow, he would get back on the trail.

* * *

As Chip and Gadget came in the front door, Dale was jumping up and down on the couch, imitating the karate moves from his umpteenth viewing of a Dirk Suave movie.

"Don't you ever get tired of that stupid spy movie?" Chip asked.

He stopped bouncing long enough to stick his tongue out.

"It's not stupid. Besides," he gestured to the couch beside him; "Foxy hasn't seen it yet."

The lavender bat must have been reclining on the couch for she had not been visible, but at the mention of her name, popped up and looked dreamily at Dale.

"Dirk is _so_ brave," she said, "Just like Dale."

Dale giggled. "Ya hear that, Chip. _I'm_ brave." He bounced a final time and landed on his butt facing the TV.

Chip had a long list of standard snarky retorts to choose from, but held his tongue. It seemed as though a relationship just might be in the offing between the two, and he wasn't sure if Foxglove had yet realized the sibling-like dynamic of their friendship that made the put-down jokes acceptable. She might think he was belittling him out of spite. That, and it would just be downright rude.

But more importantly, Dale getting involved with Foxglove left an obstacle free approach to Gadget for him. And quite obviously, he wasn't about to do _anything_ that could mess that up. Not that he thought Dale ever had any real chance at her. He just wasn't up to Gadget mentally, and in the long term, that would be enough. Being honest with himself meant he had to admit that _he_ might not be either, but then who would? At least Gadget could have an intelligent conversation with him. Dale, not so much.

At any rate, it seemed whenever a good opportunity to move things along with Gadget came around, Dale was always there poking his nose in and ruining it. To have that distraction eliminated would be fabulous. As though she had read his mind, Gadget stepped up behind him and put her hand on his shoulder.

"It's awfully nice of you not to make cracks at him when he's with Foxglove," she said quietly.

"That just wouldn't be right," he replied. "Dale and I may do some mean-spirited things to each other, but it's almost always in good fun, and it's never intentionally spiteful. Besides, she would think I was being mean, and that would make us _both_ look bad."

He turned his nose up as he caught an all too familiar scent emanating from the kitchen.

"Oh, no," he said, "Tell me that's not-."

"Yep," Gadget replied, also getting a whiff. "Monty's making walnut wallaroos."

Chip looked at her. "Um…didn't we forget that…that, um…"

"Golly, you're right, we did. We'd better go back and get it."

They began to back towards the door just as Monty burst in from the kitchen with a platter piled with wallaroos.

"All right, me mates!" he exclaimed. "Fresh from the oven! Everybody eat up, there's plenty more where these came from."

"Uh, Monty," Chip stammered, "We'll have some when we get back. We just have to…to-."

"Go get the thing," Gadget finished. "That we left…at…at that place."

"No worries, Gadget, luv. You won't miss out on a bit!"

"That's what I'm afraid of," Chip said under his breath.

They turned, but before they could open the door, it was knocked on forcefully. Despite the fact that unexpected visitors were fairly common, given their line of work, all heads turned towards the door anyway.

"I wonder who that could be?" Dale asked.

Chip answered the door. The mouse that stood there was, to say the least, imposing. He was a good centimeter taller than Monterey Jack, dressed in a snow-white tee shirt that hugged his torso, under a charcoal grey blazer that identically matched his short fur. Square jaw, wide shoulders, narrow waist, muscular, but not in the manner of a bodybuilder. His profile was lean; he could almost be described as trim. He stood confidently erect, and gazing out from under thick crew cut black hair, his luminescent blue eyes radiated authority. His manner was practically noble.

"_Gol-ly_."

The single word, drawn out not quite into two, was so soft spoken that Chip only heard it because he was standing right next to her. Looking to his left, he saw Gadget staring up at the stranger with a mixture of bewilderment and awe, mouth agape. In that moment, Chip was suddenly insanely jealous. The fact that it was completely against his will didn't make much difference. He was munk enough to realize that the mouse had done nothing to deserve the sudden prejudice he felt, and that he would have to deal with him carefully to have any chance at treating him fairly.

"Judging by the rather unique emblem above the door," he said in a clipped British accent, "I assume I have indeed found my way to the domicile of the Rescue Rangers, yes?"

His appearance seemed to have created some sort of vacuum in the room that absorbed speech. The entire team seemed mesmerized, and no one answered at first.

"Too right you 'ave," Monty finally said, striding purposely towards the door. This seemed to break whatever spell had come over them.

"Rescue Rangers, at your service," Chip said, offering his paw. The mouse gripped it so firmly Chip had to grit his teeth to keep from making a noise, and he nearly had his arm shook from its socket.

"Burke's the name, Walter Burke. But usually it's just Burke."

Chip introduced the gang. To his relief, Burke paid no more attention to Gadget than he did to any one of the rest of them.

"Come on in, mate, tell us 'ow we can 'elp ya."

"Well, it's quite simple, really. I'm on the…say, are those walnut wallaroos?"

"You bet your cheddar they are," Monty told him. "Help yourself, mate. There's plenty more where those came from."

"Don't mind if I do." He sat at the table where the snacks were piled. He somehow managed to carry on a continuous conversation while eating without ever speaking with his mouth full. "Your accent, Monterey: is that a touch of Adelaide I hear?"

Monty's mouth fell open. "Why it certainly is. 'Ow'd you know?"

"My dear old mum was from down around Adelaide. Met my old man while he was on safari in Coorong, fell in love, and followed him back to England. Never lost that Aussie accent, though. These wallaroos are fantastic. Just like mum used to make."

"How can we help you, Mr. Burke?" Chip asked.

"Well, you see, I'm on a mission that's absolutely vital to the security of the Crown. I'm afraid I can't really go into detail on account of national security, but it's not particularly necessary for you to know. It's not in that manner that I require your assistance."

"Gee whiz," Dale said excitedly, "Are you some kind of spy?"

Burke chuckled. "Well, if I were human, I guess the agency I work for might be called MI6. But we encompass a little more than that."

"Wowie, a real life spy! What do you do? Espionage? Demolitions expert? Assassin?"

Chip looked over at Dale, who was standing backwards on the couch facing them. He was holding onto the back of the couch, bouncing his legs up and down on the couch cushions. Chip rolled his eyes at him and re-focused on Burke.

"Well, if it were anything, you could say my speciality is deception. My primary assignments are deep cover missions. Infiltrate, reconnoiter, exfiltrate. I try leaving the messy stuff to those with, shall we say…less noble tendencies than myself.

"At any rate, the group I'm up against in this endeavour are radicals. The individual I was working found me out, and when I tried to bring him in, the crazy bloke leapt from a catwalk and fell to his death."

"Crikey!" Monty exclaimed.

"Indeed. Daft buggars, these radical types."

"You said you didn't need our help on your mission, Mr. Burke," Chip said. "So what do you need us for?"

"Please, just Burke. And I must admit to being out of sorts here in New York. I need guides to show me around. The man I was working was my only link to these radicals. I need to pick up the trail. But I don't know where to start looking, where the local nefarious pubs and hangouts are. I need to get back in the networks."

"Why do you need to do that?" Foxglove asked.

"Well, to find a criminal, you generally need other criminals. And given my deep cover experience, it should be relatively easy to infiltrate one of these organisations and get back on track."

Chip couldn't help but notice that the usually talkative Gadget had said not a word since Burke walked in the door. She seemed both unable to look at him, and unable to look away from him. The result was a head down, side of the eye stare that followed every move.

"Oh, well that's easy," Dale said. "You need to hook up with Fat Cat."

"No," Chip said. He had reached a point where he didn't care whether they helped Burke out or not. He just wanted him gone, mission accomplished, and back across the pond as quickly as possible. But his sense of duty and honor wouldn't allow him to either mislead him, or be openly hostile to him when he'd done nothing to deserve it.

"Fat Cat's top of the food chain, too far up to get in the way you're talking about. Besides, he'd never trust a mouse anyway. Your best bet is Rat Capone."

"Chip's right, mate," Monty agreed. "He's got a place over near 11th and Bleeker. But you won't be able to just mosey up to Rat Capone either. You'll need to talk to Benny."

"And who's this Benny chap?"

"Benny Buns," Chip said. "Mid-level, but he's a made guy, so he can get you in. The place is called Tiny's. Benny manages it when Capone's not around."

"And how often is Benny there?"

"Only when it's open," Monty said.

"And Capone?"

"He cycles between always there and never there," Chip said. "So it's hit and miss. But Benny will know."

"Well sounds like I'd better get down there."

"Glad we could help," Chip said, preparing to usher him out the door. But Gadget finally spoke.

"Golly, Chip, that's awfully far. Shouldn't we give him a ride?"

He cringed inwardly.

"Well 'a course we're givin' 'im a ride!" Monty exclaimed. "Plus, I've gotta way t' spread a little icin' on the cake."

* * *

Burke walked into the small tavern. It was fairly crowded despite still being relatively early. He looked around slowly as he approached the bar, checking the sight lines and looking for the exits. He took a seat roughly in the middle of the room and looked over the bar at a man crouched down and digging in a low cabinet. Burke dug in a bowl of chopped nuts of several varieties and came up with a chunk of walnut. He tossed it casually over the bar and it hit the man in the shoulder.

"Say, old chap," he called over the din. "How about a pint?"

The man stood slowly until he was towering over Burke. He was the most enormous rat Burke had ever seen, at least half again as tall as he was. But when he spoke, his voice was a squeaky falsetto.

"The name's Tiny, chum. And unless you want your fingers broke, you'd best watch who you were throwin' stuff at."

"Well, Mr. Tiny I assure you I only wished to gather your attention. Had I actually meant you any offence you can be confident we'd not be having such a pleasant exchange." He let a chill seep into his voice. "I can also assure you that were you to attempt to carry out your threat, _I_ wouldn't be the one that ended up with broken bones."

He spread his palms on the bar and stood on the rungs of the barstool. It only elevated him to the level of Tiny's chest, but he locked an icy gaze on the man's eyes. "But you're more than welcome to try."

He let that arctic gaze bore into the larger man until he finally looked away. Satisfied, Burke sat down.

"Now, about that pint...What are you serving today?"

Tiny picked up a glass and indicated the long row of tap handles.

"Bud, Bud Light, Miller, Miller Light, PBR, Icehouse-."

"Blimey, mate, I meant I wanted a _beer_. Haven't you got Fullers?"

Tiny shook his head.

"Marston's? Sam Smith? Lee's Harvest? Newcastle?"

Tiny finally gave a small nod and placed the glass under a tap.

"Bloody hell, I thought this was a _pub_," he muttered under his breath.

Tiny set the glass on a small square of napkin and Burke picked it up. He raised it in a miniature toast towards the massive bartender, as if to say "no hard feelings", then spun around in his chair to look over the floor. Despite having only a vague description, it wasn't hard to spot Benny. He was strutting around the bar from table to table, but only the ones full of pretty women. After several minutes, he glanced towards the bar. Burke could tell by the way Benny's eyes shifted back and forth that Tiny had in some way indicated that he should come along and check out the newcomer.

He took his time, still moving between the tables to seem nonchalant. Finally, he approached the bar, sauntering up for a refill and stopping next to Burke purely by "chance". After leaning over the bar enough to exchange a few inaudible words with Tiny, he turned and stood there a moment, mimicking Burke's posture, looking out over the crowded room.

"You're new in town, ain't ya?" he said finally.

"Can't put one past you."

"Benny's the name." He offered his hand. Burke ignored it. "I run this joint."

"Good for you."

After a moment of standing there with his hand out, he slowly lowered it and glowered at Burke. "You don't mind if I ask who you are, do ya?"

"Don't mind at all."

There was a moment of silence as Benny waited.

"Well?"

"Well what, mate?"

"Your name, _mate_. What's your name?"

"Burke. You can call me Burke."

"And what do you do, Mr. Burke?"

"No mister. Just Burke. And are you this inquisitive towards all your patrons?"

"Just the ones who threaten my staff."

"Is that what he told you?"

Benny just looked at him.

"I'm afraid Mr. Tiny misinterpreted me."

"Oh he did, did he?"

"Yes. You see," he turned that arctic stare on Benny. "I never _threaten_ anyone."

Benny tried to return the stare, but he only managed a few moments. After he broke away, Burke looked back out over the room just as the door opened and Chip and Dale strolled in.

"Excuse me for a moment, will you old chap?" He slid off the stool and headed for the restrooms.

Closely behind them, but after Burke had his back to the door, followed the rest of the team. Chip and Gadget peeled off to the left, Dale and Foxglove to the right, and Monty and Zipper came up the middle. They swept the room carefully and it was clearly obvious to anyone paying attention that they were looking for someone. After a leisurely stroll through the room the whole team ended up in a loose cluster in front of Benny. Chip stepped up to him.

"Benny Buns," he said.

"I thought I told youse guys we don't want you patronizin' our business," he said.

"Don't worry, we're not patronizing. Just trying to find a friend."

"You've got friends?" He laughed roughly, half-turned towards the bar and tapped Tiny's forearm with the back of his hand. "Hey Tiny, chipmunk here says he has friends. And they might be around here! Ain't that rich?" They laughed and Benny turned back towards Chip and looked down at him disdainfully. Chip ignored the look.

"Tall mouse," he said. "Black hair, gray fur, British accent. Seen him around?"

"Nope. But even if I had, I wouldn't tell the likes 'a _you_. Now why don't you and your little ranger buddies find the door before I have Tiny here show you where it is."

Monty stepped up, pushing his sleeves towards his elbows. "Bring it on, ya overgrown pile 'a-."

Chip put a hand on his chest. "Easy, Monty. It's not worth it. Not tonight, anyway." He locked eyes with Benny, who just sneered at him. "Come on, gang." Slowly, they filed out. A few moments later, Burke reappeared.

"You know, Benny, not to intrude on your managerial policies, but as a matter of course you should probably have the restrooms inspected from time to time. Why, you should see the atrocity someone's scrolled on the wall."

"You normally carry your drink to the can?"

"Ah, you know. New face, new place. If I left my drink to fend for itself, something worse than what's in the loo might end up in it. Wouldn't want that, now would we?"

"I couldn't help but notice the timing of your little potty break. You got something against chipmunks?"

Burke shuddered. "They give me the collywobbles, the nasty little buggars. Glad we don't really have them back home."

"Look, let's quit dancing and just cut to the chase here. They was looking for ya. You know it, I know it. I coulda given you up to them, but I didn't. So why don't we discuss a little business? Perhaps we could be of some assistance to each other."

"And how would I know you're the type of person I can discuss the business I have with?"

"Because you're going to check up on me. Just like I'm going to check up on you. Then we meet back here in two days and discuss what we've learned."

Burke looked at him for a long moment, then tipped up his glass and drained it. He set it on the bar.

"Sounds like an equitable arrangement."

* * *

"Why, that was just shy of brilliant, Monterey," Burke said back at RHQ. He had just finished telling the team how the evening had gone for him. "Why, I'd have been there all night, and probably two or three more weaseling my way into Benny's confidence. But no sooner did I reappear after you left and he all but threw himself at me! You Rangers must have quite the reputation."

"Aw, it was nothin'! Why me an' a few of me mates once pulled the same scheme on this ten legged tarantula down in Tortuga. Fastest way to get in with the bad guys is to be on the bad side of the good guys, I always say."

"So what now, Burke?" Dale asked.

"Now I go out and do my homework. If Benny finds out I wasn't checking on him, the game will be up before it's started."

"Well if there's any thing else we can do for ya," Monty said, "You be sure and let us know."

"Actually, I've been giving the matter some thought and I do believe there's plenty of opportunity for us to work together on this case."

Chip held back an exasperated sigh. He knew his jealousy was starting to get the better of him, but he couldn't help it. Unfortunately it was quickly turning into an intense dislike of a man who had done absolutely nothing wrong. The rest of them were waiting with bated breath to hear what he had in mind.

"The mouse I was pursuing last week was named Dean Cooper. He had a brother, Brian, who might have had something to do with the whole matter. Had I not been referred to you chaps, that was going to be the next avenue I tried. There's a good chance it won't bear fruit, but it would be an excellent parallel investigation if you were willing to take it on.

"And it may come down to an issue of strength of numbers rather than just my wits against these radicals. I may even be able to get authorisation from the brass to officially bring you in, though I can't make any assurances to that effect."

"We'd be happy to help in any way we can, Mr. Burke," Foxglove said. Monty and Dale nodded enthusiastically, Gadget continued to hover demurely at the corner of his vision and said nothing.

"Thank you kindly, Foxglove. Thanks to you all, really, it's greatly appreciated. You have both my and Her Majesty's thanks." He slapped his knees and stood. "That having been said, it's quite late and I should be off."

He started towards the door.

"Burke," Gadget said, "You'd be welcome to use our guest room. It would certainly make coordinating things easier."

"Bonzah idea, Gadget luv!"

Burke looked at her as if for the first time. Not knowing her, he might easily have assumed she was always so shy. Perhaps now he was reevaluating his opinion. Chip didn't like the way he was looking at her at all. He balled his fists, which shook angrily at his sides, and hoped no one noticed. His mind worked to find a way to reject this idea without slighting Gadget. But Burke saved him.

"That's quite a generous offer, but I must decline. Can't have a character as nefarious as I'm supposed to be having a sleepover with the Rescue Rangers. Benny might doubt my sincerity. And his goons were surprisingly good at tailing me. Took me almost three whole minutes to lose them. In fact, I was about to suggest our next meeting be held at an alternate location."

"He's right," Chip said, perhaps a little too quickly. He looked at Burke. "The last thing we need is to blow your cover. We can meet in DeWitt Park. It's at 53rd and 11th beside the river. There's a fountain near the basketball courts."

"Splendid. I'm meeting Benny again in two nights. We can meet the following morning. Say…9 o'clock?"

"Sounds like a plan to me," Dale said.

"Excellent. I'll see you all then. Cheerio."

And with that, he breezed out the door and was gone.

"Wowie!" Dale exclaimed, "We get to work with a _real_ spy!"

"Work _with_?" Chip said. "More like work _for_."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means he's using us you big dummy. To do _his_ dirty work."

"But Chip," Gadget said, "He hasn't asked us to do anything. _We_ asked _him_. How can you say he's using us?"

"It just sounds fishy to me. First he can't tell us anything except that all his leads are dead. Then he needs us to check out this Cooper person, and then he's talking about making _us_ part of _his_ team and telling us everything. It doesn't scan."

"Well golly, Chip, maybe he's just trying to be polite. And maybe you should try it too."

"_Me_? I've been a perfect gentleman."

"You've hardly said a word to him," she replied, perhaps more crossly than the situation dictated. "And you sure seemed like you couldn't get him out of here fast enough. You all but held the door for him."

"I just don't trust him, that's all."

"And what reason has he given you _not_ to trust him?"

"I don't _know_ him."

She marched up to him and stared him down.

"Well if I remember correctly, when I first met a certain pair of chipmunks, I had no reason to trust them. But I _did_."

"That wasn't the same thing at all." He took half a step back for a little space and she stepped right back into him again. Suddenly he found himself backpedaling with Gadget advancing on him like a fencer pressing an attack.

"Well if you ask me it _was_, and I gave you the benefit of the doubt when everything I knew about strangers said I shouldn't. We're supposed to _help_ people, Chip. It's the whole reason the Rescue Rangers exist."

His back finally hit the wall and Gadget was in major violation of his personal space, so close their noses were touching. He didn't think he'd ever seen her so angry, certainly not at one of them. He felt like her gaze was going to singe his fur.

"And if we're suddenly changing that policy," she continued, almost shouting, "Then maybe I need to think about whether or not I want to _be_ a Rescue Ranger anymore!"

She whirled and her flying hair slapped across his face, knocking his fedora to the floor. Fuming, she stormed off to her room. Chip was completely bewildered. He looked around the room. The others were all staring at him.

"What was _that_ all about?" he asked.

Dale walked up to him and bopped him on the head. "You hurt her feelings, you big dummy."

"But…but…how? What did I say?"

Monty stepped in between the two.

"All right, now. Everybody just take a step back. I think things are a wee bit overheated right now. Let's not anybody say anything for a little while, eh?"

They all looked at him and nodded, except Chip, who was still too bewildered to react at all. Slowly they all filed out of the room. Chip didn't know what to think. He walked outside and sat down, looked up at the midnight moon.

The sounds of the park were just barely louder than the muted sounds of the city. Crickets, frogs, the burbling of the fountain below. In the background was a low hum of all the sounds of the city combined, punctuated by a car horn here, a siren there, or some other sharp sound rising alone. He ran the scene in the living room over and over again in his head, trying to figure out what the _hell_ just happened.

After a few minutes he heard the door open behind him. He didn't look back, half hoping it wasn't Gadget, and half hoping it was. After a moment, Monty sat down on his left.

"What did I do, Monterey? I wasn't trying to make anyone mad, or hurt anyone's feelings. I certainly wasn't trying to make Gadget feel like I didn't want her here."

It was no secret Monty had taken on the role of surrogate father to Gadget, but occasionally he would step outside the boundaries of his friendship with Chip or Dale and take on a fatherly role when he felt it was badly needed.

"Well Chippah," he said, "Just between you and me, I think she may have overreacted a wee bit."

"So it wasn't me?"

"A little, perhaps. But I think it's more that Gadget's quite taken with the intriguing Mr. Burke. I think she was a bit defensive on his behalf."

"Yes, I noticed. _I_ haven't spoke to him? Other than offering him a ride and then a room, she hasn't said a single thing to him. Just…just…_fawned_ over him like some lovesick teenager."

"Well, you're right about that." He paused for a long moment. "Chip…don't you think it's about time you tell her how you feel?"

Chip considered himself to be rather private when it came to his emotions. Monty's statement was a little too insightful. He wasn't sure how much he reacted. He tried to play it off.

"What do you mean?"

"Now, Chippah, don't think you can pull the wool over 'ol Monterey's eyes. I been around enough to tell when a lad fancies a lass the way you do."

"Oh, that's all just harmless flirting. Dale and I both do it. She doesn't even notice most of the time."

Monty put his right hand on Chip's shoulder and spoke softly, gravely.

"Chip, I see the way you look at her. Hear the tenderness in your voice when you speak to her. Watch as your body language changes whenever you get near her. You're in love with her. And I can't think of a better man for her. I know you'd take care of her, know you'd never hurt her."

He looked down at the reflection of the moon in the fountain, then made a fist with his left hand and tapped his chest over his heart.

"And I know if she was with you, you'd keep her close t' here, wouldn't take her away." He drew a long breath, let it out slowly.

"Now this Limey sweeps into her life. And I don't think he's noticed yet, but all he's got to do is want to and he'll sweep her off her feet. And maybe go carryin' her back t' England.

"And you're right. We don't know 'im. I've got no problem trustin' 'im to work with 'im. But he's got a long way to go before I'd trust 'im with my wee Gadget's 'art."

He looked back at Chip. He looked…deflated.

"So what am I supposed to do, Monterey? For starters, she's furious with me right now. But even if she weren't, I can't just go up to her and say 'don't fall in love with _him_, fall in love with _me_'."

"Why not? Remember Chippah, she already knows you, she already trusts you, an' she already _loves_ you. Maybe not the same way you love her, but you can't know that 'til ya ask. All she has a' this Burke fella is a handsome face and a paper-thin personality. Seems to me you've got all the cards in your 'and."

He stood and patted Chip's shoulder a final time.

"P'raps it's time you laid 'em on the table."

He turned and walked back inside, leaving Chip to his thoughts.

* * *

A little later, as Chip headed to bed, he stopped outside her door and knocked softly.

"Gadget?"

Her muffled voice filtered through the door. "Go away, Chip. I don't want to talk to you right now."

"I know you don't. And I'm not going to ask you to. I just…wanted to say I'm sorry. Really. I…"

He fumbled a moment, wanting to say more, but knowing he'd pushed as far as he could right now.

"I'm sorry. Goodnight, Gadget."

He walked quietly down the hall. But if he had been able to see into her room, he would have seen her face buried in her pillow, the case wet with her tears.

* * *

He woke the next morning, not feeling terribly rested, and padded into the kitchen without bothering to change out of his nightshirt. He sidled past the pile of walleroos on the counter, retrieved a mug from the cabinet, and poured a cup of coffee. After inhaling deeply over the top of it he sipped it carefully. It was strong and bitter. Obviously not fresh. Checking the clock, he realized he had slept in more than an hour longer than he usually did. He dumped out the coffee and started a fresh pot, wandering into the living room while he waited.

It was deserted. He knew Foxglove would be asleep in the high redoubt they had made for her near the top of the tree. She was attempting to alter her nocturnal nature. So far she'd gotten about halfway there, going to sleep mid-morning and waking just before dinner. There was no sign of the others. He gave a mental shrug, as there were no official plans today, and wandered back into the kitchen. He selected a slice of biscotti baked with raisins and nutmeg, poured a fresh cup of coffee, and carried both to the living room where he turned on the news. The familiar face of Stan Blather was staring back at him from behind the news desk. Over his shoulder was an inset still of a building surrounded by fire trucks.

"…no leads on who was behind a fire that destroyed a portion of a local research office for the National Institute of Mental Health last month. An internal investigation has also produced no leads, but local officials have reported difficulties obtaining effective cooperation from scientists at the office. NIMH officials have refused to comment on the situation, other than to report that damage to the building was minor, and that no significant research was lost. When we come back, weather and traffic from our eye in the sky."

Chip nibbled at the biscotti and sipped the coffee, waiting for an interesting story, something that might merit investigation, but it was all standard drivel. After a few minutes, he heard the shuffling of feet and turned to see Gadget emerging from the hallway. She was dressed in her standard blue coveralls, and was tinkering with something in her hands. She started when she saw him.

"Oh! Good morning, Chip," she said softly.

"Good morning, Gadget."

He turned back to the television, figuring that the best thing he could do would be to say nothing until he had some idea of her state of mind. It wasn't until after he had done it that he realized that his mood and tone of voice had probably seemed dismissive to her. He cringed, realizing there was no way he could take it back. He could almost feel her gaze drilling into him between his shoulders. After a few long moments, she sat down at the far end of the couch. She put whatever she was holding beside her and sat staring at the floor wringing her hands.

"Chip," she said after a few moments, "I want to apologize for the way I treated you last night."

"It's not your fault, Gadget. I shouldn't have-."

"No, Chip, you didn't do anything wrong. And I appreciate your apologizing despite that. The truth…the truth is, I overreacted. And I didn't mean the awful things I said to you."

"I know you didn't. You were just defending Burke."

"I thought you had something against him, when you didn't even know him. I don't know why."

"I _do_ have something against him."

"You do? What could that possibly be?"

Chip looked down. "I'm jealous of him."

"Jealous? Whatever for?"

"Because…because of the way you look at him."

She looked completely confused.

"I don't understand."

"You're crushing on him, Gadget. I'm afraid it's very obvious."

Her cheeks flushed bright red.

"Omigosh. I had no idea."

"Only to us, because we know you. Burke probably doesn't realize it."

"But I still don't understand."

"I'm jealous of him because…because I want you to look at _me_ like that."

He looked up at her. Her expression was inscrutable.

"I know this is a really bad time to say this, but I'm in love with you Gadget. I have been…for quite a while now. I've just…the time was never right, or it was and I couldn't bring myself to say it, or I tried to say it and something would stop me." He chuckled. "Something was usually Dale.

"I just…watching the way you were acting around Burke…I just wanted him gone. I'm sure he's a great guy, a credit to the people he works for. And I don't really think he's using us. That was my jealousy talking."

"Golly, Chip I…I don't know what to say."

"You don't need to say anything, Gadget. I'm just trying to explain myself to you. You like Burke. I understand. He's got a lot going for him. And if you want to be with him, I'm not going to try to stop you, even though it's the last thing in the world I want. But remember, when this mission is over, he's going back to England. And I…we'd _all_ be heartbroken if you went with him.

"Who you give your heart to is entirely up to you. But even if I didn't want you for myself, if I had the right, Burke would still have a whole heck of a lot to prove before I'd give him my approval."

There was a long moment of silence.

"It really means a lot to me to hear you say that, Chip. And truthfully, I don't even know if Burke would be interested in me. He might not even be available. But I want to find out if there's anything there. There's something about him…something I can't put my finger on. No one's ever made me feel like that before.

"Don't take that as a rejection. You're a wonderful man. If circumstances were different, I could see us being together. But…circumstances _are_ different."

Chip nodded. Gadget could see she'd hurt him. His head hung, his shoulders slumped. But worst of all there was a sudden emptiness in his eyes, and a sudden enormous uncomfortable pressure in the room. She slid off the couch and knelt in front of him, took his hand.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered. She wanted to say more, but she knew he needed some time alone. And she couldn't stand that awful empty look in his eyes. She stood and lightly kissed him on the cheek.

And fled.

* * *

Chip sat on the couch for several minutes after she left. His mind was numb. To use Monterey's analogy, he had lain his flush on the table only to find Burke had a full house. And Gadget, who was honest to a fault as usual, didn't realize that honesty here wasn't the best policy. Simply saying he wasn't in the race would have been enough, she didn't have to point out that he was in it and came in second to the rookie.

He allowed himself a few minutes to sit there, wallowing in self-pity. Yes, he was crushed, heartbroken, despairing. But that was his problem. He wouldn't bring the others down with him. It simply wouldn't be fair to them. This was a burden he would have to bear alone.

He stood, took several deep breaths, let them out slowly. What he needed now was work. He had limited information, but enough to start investigating.

Dean Cooper. Mouse. He would have been found dead in the warehouse by the human workers and disposed of without a second thought. An unfortunately common occurrence thanks to the humans' perception of themselves as a superior species. In short: a dead end.

He had a brother, Brian, whereabouts unknown. But Chip would find out. And perhaps he could help Burke get this case solved and get him back to England before any kind of relationship could develop between him and Gadget.

He headed for his bedroom and tore off his nightshirt. He stopped when he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He stared at his reflection for a moment. He didn't consider himself to be vain, but he did take pride in his appearance. He kept himself fit. He wasn't as large as Burke was, but comparatively he was every bit as buff. Burke's short fur had the advantage of leaving nothing about his figure to the imagination. His own toned midsection and well-defined chest were not as immediately evident thanks to his longer fur, but he still felt he could honestly tell himself that he was a hunk of a munk.

He considered briefly that perhaps the simple fact that Burke was a mouse and he was not was enough to sway Gadget's affections. He discarded that theory, though; both because he didn't really think that it were true and because if it were, he might as well accept defeat now.

_Like hell, I will._

He shrugged into his bomber jacket and zipped it up, stuffing his fedora underneath, and headed for the small hidden garage at the base of the tree. It was there they kept their newest…well, toy. It was 1/10 scale RC version of a Yamaha V Star that Gadget modified just enough to respond to the hand controls and accept a long-life battery pack. It was good for two hours ridden hard, better than three ridden conservatively. It fit his type A personality perfectly, and quickly became his favorite of all of Gadget's inventions. He would never go so far as to claim it as being "his", but the others clearly knew he favored it and generally let him get away with monopolizing it.

Today would be a long day. It was the exact opposite of the exciting parts of being a Rescue Ranger. Working the streets, asking around, hunting for the one person in the city that could lead you to your suspect. In a word: tedium. But it would keep him occupied, and right now he sorely needed occupied.

He mounted the bike, strapped on the helmet, and took off.


	2. Chapter 2

Gadget looked up from her workbench and glanced at the clock. She was shocked to see it was nearly five-thirty. It was very rare she became so immersed in her work an entire day could pass unnoticed. But it was also those times when her best thinking was done, because the less she thought, the better she thought. Anytime she had a particularly perplexing problem, she would attack the mindless busywork that had piled on her workbench, set her mind on automatic, and kick the problem to her id for her subconscious to chew on. It was usually only a matter of an hour or two before the solution came to her. But this problem was different. It wasn't a technical problem.

Burke's image swam through her mind. She had never felt anything like what he made her feel. To be honest, despite his imposing physique, she really didn't even find him that attractive. And she knew virtually nothing about him. But there was something about his…aura, for want of a better word. Something charismatic, something that drew her inexorably towards him, as though she were a large mass of proto-matter and he were a primordial black hole.

Then there was Chip. Perhaps her best friend among her fellow Rangers. Proud, noble, caring, honorable, strong. Sexy, particularly for a chipmunk. She had hugged him often enough to know there was a chiseled body beneath all that brown fur. And deep down, where he though he had it hidden away from them, was a heart as soft and mushy as melted butter.

Like she had told him earlier, she could easily see herself being with him. In fact, had he told her how he felt two days ago, she would almost certainly have accepted his advances, and the arrival of the intriguing Mr. Burke would have simply been another case.

Now, as her awareness of the day returned, her stomach loudly reminded her that breakfast had been a long time ago. She started down the hall and heard Monty's accent rising above a cacophony of other voices. She wandered into the kitchen where Monty was entertaining Zipper, Dale and Foxglove with another of his outrageous tall tales, and they all sat at the table laughing over a half empty pot of cheese chowder.

"It's alive!" Monty cried in mock horror when he saw her. Dale and Foxy responded by crying out in overdramatic fashion, hands raised defensively in front of their faces. She gave them a self-deprecating smile, sat down, and scooped out a bowl of chowder.

"We tried to get you to come to lunch," Monty said, "But you were totally engrossed."

"Yeah," Dale chimed in. "We've never seen you like that before. We could've set a bomb off in there and you wouldn't have noticed."

"I guess I've just got a lot on my mind."

Just mentioning her issues made it suddenly and glaringly obvious.

"Where's Chip?" she asked.

"We 'aven't seen 'im all day. Didn't get up for breakfast. We went out for a bit after, an' when we got back, the Ranger Bike was gone and so was he."

Their boisterous mood fell apart when they saw the look on her face.

"Gadget," Dale said nervously, "Uh, wh…what is it?"

Her mouth worked silently for a moment. How could she explain the sudden knot of dread she felt in her stomach? He had been so despondent, but surely he wouldn't do anything…extreme.

"Well…he…"

"Did he go out investigatin' that case on 'is own?" Monty asked.

She didn't know how he knew she needed an out, but she was grateful for it.

"I guess…I guess he did."

"Well what would he go and do that for?" Dale asked.

"He's seemed very…agitated the last couple of days," Foxglove observed. "Maybe he's just trying to work off some nervous energy."

"Well whatever it is," Monty said, "He ought not be out there by hisself. What say we split up and go find 'im?"

They all nodded agreement. Dale got his glider and took off with Foxglove while Gadget, Monty, and Zipper took the Ranger Wing. They flew for hours, but couldn't find him, and were finally forced to return to headquarters when they reached the Ranger Wing's endurance limit.

Dale and Foxy were already there resting. They had also seen no sign of Chip, but were ready to go out again. Being so late, they decided that only one team at a time would go out, leaving the other to rest and to keep Chip there should he return on his own.

She and Monterey hadn't spoke much while they were out; they were concentrating on the search. But now the silence in the room contained an uncomfortable pressure.

"You know, don't you?" Gadget asked.

"I've got me suspicions," Monty replied.

"Chip…he asked me…well, he told me…"

"And you turned 'im down."

"I didn't know…I mean, I didn't think he would react this way."

"Ya broke 'is 'art. 'Ow'd ya _think_ he would react?"

"I…I don't know."

"He's a fine lad, Gadget luv."

"No, not just fine. He's wonderful."

"Then what is it? This Burke fella?"

She searched her mind. She couldn't yet explain it to herself, let alone someone else. But then the door burst open.

"Chip!" Gadget exclaimed. She ran to him and wrapped her arms around him. He returned the embrace, but something about it felt different than usual, felt hesitant, awkward.

"Where are Dale and Foxglove?" he asked

"They're out lookin' for you, Chippah."

"For me?"

"Ya can't run off for the 'ole day without worryin' yer mates."

"Sorry. But I've been working. I want to have something productive to give Burke when we meet him and I've finally got a lead on Brian Cooper. Come on!"

"Hold it pally. We can't go nowhere 'til Dale and Foxy get back. Someone's gotta tell 'em you've turned up."

"Well than you can come with me. Gadget can stay and wait for the others, but this lead is time sensitive. We've got to move on it."

Monty could barely believe his ears. He knew Chip never missed an opportunity to go solo with Gadget. He must really be hurting to so readily suggest that she stay behind.

"That's okay, Monty," Gadget quickly said. "You can stay. I'll go with Chip."

"But-." Chip started, but Gadget had his hand and was leading him out the door.

"Is there enough juice left in the Ranger Bike? The Ranger Wing is drained."

"Well…yes…but-."

"Good. Let's get moving."

She led him down to the garage where Chip mounted the bike and she climbed on behind him.

"Where are we going?" she asked. He paused a moment before he replied hesitantly.

"A club…The Acorn Club."

He twisted the throttle and they sped off.

* * *

As Chip and Gadget walked under the covered entrance to the Acorn Club, a slew of memories both good and bad played across Chip's mental landscape. The most vivid, of course, was the young chipmunk he and Dale had competed so fiercely for. In the end, neither of them came out on top, but the intense rivalry nearly destroyed their friendship. Eventually they realized that she was intentionally playing them against each other. Knowing the loss of their friendship wasn't worth a woman like that; they left the club and vowed never to return. Clarice left a few months later and they had heard nothing of her since.

It was a piece of their history they weren't proud of, and never spoke of it. As a result, Gadget, Monty, and Zipper were unaware of this particular period of their lives. But now, it seemed that was about to change. And as far as he and Gadget were concerned, there couldn't be a worse time. Chances were the whole mess would make no difference to her one way or the other, but he was already precariously balanced on the loosing corner of this love triangle, and any complication that might upset his tenuous position was unwanted.

The last couple of patrons were filing out, or being led out against their mild protests. It was already past closing time, but Chip knew that it would be the best time to ask around about Brian Cooper. The manager would be too busy during the club's open hours.

He looked around as they wandered towards the stage at the front of the room. The place had hardly changed at all. They stopped at the short step leading up to the stage and Chip stared at the piano wistfully.

"Sorry, kids," he heard from behind them, "But we're all done for the night."

He didn't need to turn around to know who was addressing him. The voice was unmistakable.

"How ya doin, Vic?" he asked before turning. When he did, the look on the older chipmunk's face said that Chip's voice had been just as unforgettable to him.

"Chip Maplewood, as I live and breathe!" he exclaimed.

They shook hands, then embraced. When they broke apart, Vic held Chip tightly by the shoulders. "Whatcha been up to all these years?"

"Oh, this and that. You?"

"Same 'ol, same 'ol. Man, it's good to see ya, pally." He clapped both of Chip's shoulders and finally let him go. "How's Dale?"

"Good, he's real good. We're still working and living together."

"That's great! I've always worried things didn't get back to the way they were." He flipped up the brim of Chip's fedora.

"New look for ya?"

"Whole new look, whole new me these days. Ever hear of the Rescue Rangers?"

"Who hasn't? What, is that you?"

Chip nodded.

"Get outta here!" he exclaimed, lightly tapping Chip's lapel with the back of his hand. "You? A detective?"

"He's actually quite good at it," Gadget said. Vic's attention suddenly focused on her.

"My apologies," he said. "But meeting up with an old friend can make a man do some silly things, even ignore a beautiful young lady such as yourself."

"Oh," Chip said, "Sorry, Vic. Gadget, Vic Fontaine. Best lounge singer this side of Vegas. Vic, this is Gadget Hackwrench, genius inventor extraordinaire."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Fontaine," she said, extending her hand.

Instead of shaking, he took her hand and kissed it lightly, making her blush. "Oh, believe me, the pleasure is all mine. And you can call me Vic. In fact, you can call me anytime," he added with a wink.

"He always was a smoothie," Chip said to Gadget. "Say, Vic, is Jimmy V. around?"

His demeanor instantly changed and a sad look came to his face.

"Sorry, Chip. Jimmy passed on a few years ago. Cancer."

Chip's own face fell. The news was thoroughly unexpected. Jimmy hadn't been much older than he, and he was one of those few all around stand-up guys you could depend on for anything at anytime. He also knew every customer by name and drink order, and with most of them a good bit more.

"Oh. Sorry, Vic. I should've known. I…we should've kept up better than that."

"Hey, it got real crazy with you kids. You did what you had to do. I understand. Tell ya what. His uncle Lucio come in from Palermo after he died, took over the joint. He's every bit the man Jimmy was." He gave them a smile and a laugh. "In fact, you might say he's _twice_ the man Jimmy was. Hang out here a minute. He doesn't do English very well, but I'm sure he'd be happy to speak with you."

"Thanks, Vic."

"Hey, no problem, pally. Be right back."

He disappeared backstage and Chip climbed up and stood next to the piano, looking down pensively at the keys. He could feel Gadget's questioning gaze.

"They know you here," she said softly. "But you've never mentioned anything about this place."

"It was a long time ago. Dale and I…we don't talk about it."

"Is it because it…'got real crazy'?"

He nodded as he ran his right hand lightly across the keys, played an F minor chord, than a G minor.

"Do you play?"

"Used to. Haven't in years. Not since…" He looked around. "All this."

"Will you play me something?"

He almost said no. This wasn't what they were here for. But there was, perhaps, an opportunity here to make a statement. And he _had_ missed it. He sat down on the bench. Played a few arpeggios, letting the feeling of the keys under his fingers come flowing back. He knew the perfect song, though he would have to flesh it out to play it solo and not as accompaniment. He arpeggioed up to the opening C, let it ring out, then began smoothly. The song really needed a silky tenor like Vic's, but his falsetto would have to do.

_When somebody loves you_

_It's no good unless he loves you_

_All the way_

_Happy to be near you_

_When you need someone to cheer you_

_All the way_

_Taller than the tallest tree is_

_That's how it's got to feel_

_Deeper than the deep blue sea is_

_That's how deep it goes if it's real_

_And when somebody needs you_

_It's no good unless he needs you_

_All the way_

_Through the good or lean years_

_And through all the in between years_

_Come what may_

_Who knows where the road will lead us_

_Only a fool would say_

_But if you let me love you_

_It's for sure I'm gonna love you_

_All the way_

_All the way_

As he started into the interlude, putting the whole of his feelings into the song, he could almost hear the strings and brass coming up. Then he realized he _could _hear the strings and brass. Looking behind him, the band had reappeared and begun playing with him.

A hand fell on his shoulder. He looked up to see Vic, mike in hand, who winked at him.

_All the way_

He sang the single line as the interlude continued. Chip dropped the lead role and fell into the accompaniment that felt as natural as it ever had, despite the intervening years.

_Come what may_

_For who knows where the road will lead us_

_Only a fool would say_

_But if you let me love you_

_It's for sure I'm gonna love you_

_All the way_

_All._

_The._

_Way._

Chip looked past Gadget, who was staring at the floor, to a short and very rotund squirrel in an expensive looking three piece suit who started clapping at the conclusion of the song.

"_Bello! Bello_!" he exclaimed. "_Che era assolutamente meraviglioso_! Iffa you looking for e job, isa yours."

He stood from the piano and nodded a thank you to Vic, then started towards the man who, but for his weight, seemed the spitting image of Jimmy V. He looked at Gadget as he passed her, and she looked up just enough to be able to meet his eyes. Hers were glassy with unshed tears and she gave him a small smile.

He extended his paw to the squirrel, who gripped it tightly and pumped it twice. Vic stepped up beside them to make the introductions.

"Chip, this is Jimmy's cousin, Lucio Valentini. Lucio, this is Chip Maplewood, the virtuoso from way back I've told you about."

"_Piacere di conoscerti, Signor_ Maplewood. So, you wanna de job?"

"I appreciate the offer, _Signor_ Valentini. But I'm here to ask about one of your customers."

He looked confused.

"Chip's a detective, Lucio," Vic said. It didn't appear to help. "A um…_investigativo_. Like Sam Spade."

Lucio's face lit up. "Sam Spade!" He grabbed Chip's paw again and pumped it furiously while spouting a waterfall of rapid Italian, somewhere in the middle of which came the words "Maltese" and "Falcon", the only two Chip was able to understand. He gestured to the nearest table.

"Sit sit sit, _per favore_," he said. He sat across from Chip and Gadget sat beside him.

"Now, how I help you?"

"I'm trying to find a man who I understand is a regular customer of yours. A mouse named Brian Cooper."

Lucio's face darkened and his eyes narrowed.

"Brian Cooper? Oh, Brian Cooper. _Non mi piace affatto! Quel ragazzo è nient'altro che guai_!" He shook his index finger at Chip. "Bad news. He bad news." He looked over towards Vic. "Vic! Vic, you go get Tony, eh?"

"Right away, boss."

Lucio looked back at Chip. "Dis a…_importante_. Antonio, he do de speaking for me."

They sat quietly for a moment until Vic returned with a tall, skinny squirrel in tow. He introduced them, and Lucio looked at him and spoke rapidly in Italian while Tony translated for him.

"Lucio, he says this Brian Cooper will come in several times a week, then disappear for one or two weeks, then start coming back again. He always has lots of money. He shows it off. And always two, or even three young girls with him. Very young. Teenagers, he thinks. They never look happy. Always look scared. They never speak. Don't make eye contact.

"Sometimes he will bring other men with him, and then there are no girls. Men in neat suits, and he is in a neat suit. But he dresses very flamboyantly when the men are not here. And they sit at the back of the room, chase anyone but the waiter who comes near away. And are very careful not to speak when the waiter is near.

"Lucio thinks they are doing very bad business. He thinks maybe they are _Mafioso_. He has thought about not allowing them to come here anymore, but is afraid they will start to cause the club problems."

Lucio said something in a very low tone of voice, almost growling.

"That, I think, doesn't need to be repeated," Tony said.

"Does Mr. Valentini know where Cooper stays at, or does business at?" Gadget asked.

Tony relayed the question and Valentini responded with a long string of Italian, then he and Tony had an extended back and forth exchange.

"Lucio wants to know why you are asking about Mr. Cooper."

"His brother, Dean, was involved in something a colleague of ours is investigating," Chip said. "Dean was his only lead, but is dead now. We're hoping that if we can track down Brian, we can pick up the trail."

There was another exchange.

"And how important is this matter?"

"Our colleague is from England. He assures us the case is vital to their national security."

Tony relayed this to Lucio, who sighed, then spoke at length.

"He says he knows the brother. He comes in sometimes with the other men, but never any other time. He gives Brian orders, Brian is afraid of him. He is a very dangerous man. Lucio says it is very good that he is dead. But he also says that he thinks Dean might have been keeping Brian in check, and that it might actually be worse now. He says you must be very careful, and that if you are taken by him, you must not reveal that you got your information here."

"Of course, we would never reveal a source," Gadget assured him.

Lucio looked at them for a moment, then spoke to Tony reluctantly. He removed a pen from inside his coat and handed it to Tony, who began scribbling on a napkin.

"There is a place down at the harbor. Very well guarded. It is where he does much of his business. He says to be very careful."

Lucio stood, and Chip and Gadget followed suit. He walked around and took Chip by the shoulder.

"You forgetting this, uh?" he urged. "Take a de piano job."

"_Grazie_, Lucio. But this is what we do."

He sighed and nodded at Tony, who handed the napkin to Chip. Lucio clapped him on the shoulders. _"In bocca al lupo_. Sam Spade."

Chip looked at Tony.

"Into the mouth of the wolf. He is wishing you good luck. Tell him 'may the wolf die'. _Crepi il lupo_."

"_Crepi il lupo_," Chip and Gadget said, somewhat clumsily.

Lucio turned and waddled off, muttering under his breath. Chip turned to Vic and thanked him.

"You might not thank me in the end, pally. Listen to Lucio. Be careful."

"We will be."

"You got time to do another one? When I told the guys who was out there tickling the ivories, they all ran back to the stage and grabbed their instruments. Even though they've been playing all night. You've gotta at least let us get a full number in."

"I would like to, Vic, but we really have to-."

"Go on, Chip," Gadget interrupted. "I'd like to hear you play something else."

He looked at her, and knew he couldn't refuse her. And as soon as he sat back at the piano, he was warm to the idea, and looking forward to it. Vic picked up the mike and stepped to the front of the stage.

"All right, guys. 'Sophisticated Lady'."

Chip smiled when he heard Vic's selection. The song was built around the piano part, and would be a challenge after so many years, but one look at Gadget and he knew he could manage. Without needing to ask, Vic knew they were all game to more than just the one song. Always wise to the ladies, he seemed to know the score between Chip and Gadget, leading them through "It's Only a Paper Moon", "I've Got You Under My Skin", and finally "The Way You Look Tonight" before they finally called it quits.

It was far from a perfect performance, there were parts where the best word to describe Chip's playing was "clumsy". He sat at the piano shaking his head as the rest of the band packed up their instruments.

"What's wrong pally?"

"Talk about rust. I sounded awful."

"Nah. You sounded…adequate." He smiled at him. Chip stood and pulled him aside.

"Say, Vic…I was wondering if you've heard anything about Clarice."

Vic glanced briefly at Gadget.

"Now Chip 'ol pal…considering everything that happened don't you think that's a door you'd best not try to open? Especially if I've got the current score?" He flicked his eyes in Gadget's direction.

"I completely agree. I'm not trying to open that door, I'm trying to make sure it's securely locked, bolted, barred, and bricked over."

"In your situation, that could be just as bad. Honesty in all relationships, pally. It's essential."

"I agree. Just not yet. Clarice?"

"No idea. When she left she said she was bound for Vegas, then maybe Hollywood. Haven't heard any more of her since then I've heard of you and Dale."

He nodded. "I appreciate it, Vic. Thanks. For everything."

"Hey, no problemo."

They hugged briefly.

"Don't be a stranger so long this time, pally. You and Dale both are welcome to sit in anytime. And tell the little rascal I said hello."

"I will. See ya around, Vic."

He stepped down from the stage.

* * *

The ride back to RHQ was silent. Chip was doing his best to focus on what Lucio told them and not the situation with Gadget. But with her body pressed against his back and her arms around him from behind, that was proving to be more than a little difficult.

There was a faraway look in her eyes as they left the Acorn Club that he recognized as meaning she was internally focused on something. He hoped that something was him, and than any weight she was applying to the scale that he and Burke were balanced on was on his side.

It would be easy to speak. Being electrically powered, the Ranger Bike made very little noise, and the sound of the wind rushing past them was not enough to stymie conversation. But he felt that, at least for the moment, he had said all that he could, and made the best argument he could. It might be unwise to try and pile on any more.

They arrived back at the treehouse to find Dale, Foxy, Monty, and Zipper waiting anxiously to hear what they discovered. Dale's eyes widened when he heard where they'd been, but other than a quick sidelong glance at Foxglove, he gave no other reaction. Chip knew he was in for a lot of explaining when they turned in tonight.

They all agreed it would be best to wait until the next evening to investigate the harbor. It was late and they were all tired. They would develop a plan after breakfast tomorrow, and then spend the day taking it easy so they would be well rested and ready for action when the sun set.

Something about this case was starting to feel odd, ominous even. Chip had a feeling that tomorrow would be a big day. Perhaps the biggest the Rescue Rangers had ever had.


	3. Chapter 3

A cold front passed through in the night, bringing with it unseasonably cool temperatures, forbiddingly grey skies, and a cold drizzle that chilled you even looking at it through the window. It was miserable weather to be strolling around in, but excellent weather for skulking about. A light onshore wind was just enough to stir the heavy mist that accompanied the light drizzle, but not enough to dissipate it. The wind and rain would mask most of the sounds they made, and the unpleasant conditions would erode both the focus and vigilance of any guards.

The mist also masked the sight, but not the sound, of the waves lapping against the hulls of the docked ships and breaking against the piers and seawalls. From here and there came the occasional clang of a ship's bell or buoy, and even less frequently, the long low bellow of a foghorn.

They made their way cautiously across the harbor, acutely aware of Foxglove's absence. Like all bats, she moved slowly and clumsily on the ground, while the rain and low visibility would render her echolocation useless, and make flying solely by sight too dangerous. Despite having only been with them about six months, she'd become an integral part of their group and they missed her now. In particular, she had been studying some basic medical texts so they would have a medic in the group, and that might be sorely needed tonight.

The information Lucio gave them said they were looking for an abandoned subterranean pump room, once used to service an inland drydock that was too small and too far from shore to be of any modern use.

It got darker as they proceeded, perhaps because the lights were less frequently checked in these lesser used portion of the harbor. Finally, the old drydock emerged from the concealing shrouds of mist.

Slinking from cover to cover, they nearly stumbled onto several sets of guards. It was a double-edged sword: Yes, the mist would conceal them, but it would also conceal the guards. But as expected, the guards were less than attentive, while they were intensely focused. Advantage Rescue Rangers.

Exploring the perimeter of the dock, they discovered a duct outlet that appeared to lead underground. Cautiously, they crept inside. The patter of the rain was transmitted through the copper sheeting of the duct, effectively masking the sound of their progress. Soon, they began hearing voices muffled by distance. Shortly thereafter, they came to a four-way intersection. To their right and ahead, the duct continued into darkness. To their left, a short section led to a grate through which the voices, and moderately bright light, were filtering. The two burly guards were standing looking through the grate and at whatever was happening below.

They were large mice, though neither quite as large as Monterey. Anticipating the need to stealthily disable guards, Gadget had quickly designed a dart gun that morning. Monty provided a recipe for a tranquilizing agent he said he'd picked up in the Outback. He claimed it was guaranteed to put even the largest of mice down for at least four hours. The two hisses of compressed air were all but inaudible and the guards were unconscious in moments. Monty pulled them away from the grate and the others moved up to join him. As one, they peered down into the pump room. What they saw defied belief.

"No," Monty said.

"It can't be," whispered Dale.

"It is," Chip said with revulsion.

"My God," Gadget said softly, a tremor in her voice. She reached for Chip's hand.

Silence descended on them and time stretched out like taffy as they watched the scene below. Cages lined the room in neat rows. Inside, small animals of varying species slumped hopelessly against the bars. Large rats and mice patrolled the area, various versions of clubs and whips hanging at their side. A line of animals, slightly more than a dozen perhaps, was being led in from an entrance opposite them and roughly thrown into cages. They were mostly mice, most looked haggard and half-starved, and they were chained together at the neck. The rat that was overseeing the line would occasionally crack a whip across the back of one of them for some perceived malfeasance. Finally, the silence had to be broken. One of them had to say it. As their leader, Chip took the responsibility.

"They're slave traffickers." The phrase left a sour taste in his mouth.

Trembling with rage, Dale turned and kicked one of the unconscious guards in the side, kicked again, and a third time before Monty pulled him away.

"Easy, lad. We can't afford to make too much of a ruckus. They got us outnumbered at least five to one."

Chip, Gadget, and Zipper had also turned away from the grate, unable to stomach the sight below them.

"Well then what are we gonna do, Monterey?" he challenged. "We can't just leave!"

Chip put a hand on his shoulder. "We don't have a choice, Dale. Not right now. We're not prepared for this. We'd only be caught ourselves. Or killed. We need to regroup. Find help. But make no mistake, we'll be back."

"You better believe we will," Gadget said, her voice hushed, but with a hard edge of fury. "And we will put a _stop_ to this."

"But until then, we'd best skeedaddle outta here. But what do we do about these two blokes?"

"Leave them," Chip said. "When they wake up, nothing will be wrong, no alarm will have been raised, no one and no thing will be missing. They'll write it off. Now let's move."

They stepped away from the grate, but stopped at an angry shout from below.

"_Brian_!"

Chip held up his hand. They needed to hear whatever was about to be said. This might be the man they were looking for. They pressed against the grate and looked down. A mouse they hadn't seen before was standing just below them, surveying the new arrivals. He was dressed in a razor sharp suit blacker than an inkblot, shoes polished to a mirror shine. His shirt and kerchief were blood red. He was looking behind him; Brian must have been standing under the duct.

"What is this? _Huh_? What have you brought in here?"

"I thought-."

"_Shut_ up! You're not supposed to think. The task's beyond you. What am I supposed to do with these runts?"

Brian stepped forward enough for them to see him. He was the same height and build as the first mouse, but dressed in dark mustard yellow slacks, an extra long cranberry red blazer, white tuxedo shirt, bow tie and socks that matched his slacks, and a wide-brimmed hat and penny loafers that matched his blazer. Lucio described Brian Cooper as a flamboyant dresser. Judging from that alone, this had to be him.

"It was all that was available. I figured they was better'n nuthin."

"Better than nothing? They _are_ nothing! A bunch of underfed, scrawny, walking sacks of fur and bone! Can't put any of them to work, none of the women are good enough for the cat flats. _Look_!"

He grabbed Brian by his bow tie and pulled him roughly forward. He pointed at a malnourished young mother clutching an infant.

"A baby! A _baby_ for crying out loud!" He shoved him roughly back again and let go. "Bring me the old farts instead of the babies! At least I can sell _them_ as pet food!"

"But boss, I thought that-."

"How many times have I got to tell you? You don't _think_. You don't make the decision to bring back a bunch of useless stock. You call _me_! And I tell _you_ to drag that useless tail of yours home! At least then I've still got my money." He chucked a thumb over his shoulder. "Now get 'em out of here."

"But what'll I do with 'em, boss?"

"I don't _care_ what you do with them! Get them out of here. Dump 'em in the river for all I care, just get 'em out of my sight!"

He turned and stomped off. Brian gestured at the guards, who started yanking the newcomers out of the cages and chaining them around the neck again.

Gadget gasped and put her hand on Chip's arm. "Chip, no!"

A few of them tried to struggle but were violently subdued. The rest were too weak to resist. They were marched back the way they came.

"Come on gang. We've got to get over there, fast."

No matter the risk, they could not stand idly by and let those people be executed. They hurried out of the duct.

When they emerged they found that the rain had let up, but the thickness of the mist had increased so that visibility was only barely more than zero. They had to fight the urge to run headlong to the other side of the drydock. They had no idea of the layout, no idea where guards might be stationed, no idea even of where exactly the prisoners were being taken. An agonizingly long few minutes later, they reached the bank of the river.

Chip stopped them there, where he threw together a haphazard plan that was two parts guerrilla attack, and one part horror movie.

"All right now, let's move. Rescue Rangers away!"

They hurried across the gate that was keeping the river at bay, slowing when they reached the far end. The plan would require absolute stealth on their part, and a good amount of luck. To their relief, after a few minutes, they heard voices, both harsh and pleading, the rattling of chains, and the occasional sharp crack of a whip. Chip gestured. They split up.

* * *

The guards marched their scrawny charges along the concrete side of the dock. There were only six of them, to cover the fourteen soon to be deceased. But that was more than enough. The fight had been whipped out of them. They would go to their watery grave with only mild verbal protest, no different than the prisoners in some movies that knelt meekly as someone with a weapon stood behind them and executed them slowly one by one.

There was a short, sharp sound from behind them.

"Yo, Lefty, you here dat?"

A choked grunt from ahead.

"Donnie? Lefty?"

"That you, Sonny?"

"Yeah, Nicky. What's goin' on?"

"I don't-."

There was a grunt and a scraping sound. An eerie hoot. The slaves were starting to mumble. Sonny cracked his whip above them.

"Keep it down, ya mangy nut'ins!"

"Sonny! You see Donnie or Lefty?"

"I can't see a thing in this slop!"

He sensed someone behind him and whirled. The heavy mist stirred but revealed nothing. No one. A clatter sounded ahead of him and he whirled around again.

"Wh…what's that? Who's there?"

"Sonny?"

"Jilly? That you? Jilly?"

The sound of footsteps passed quickly behind him and he whirled again. The slaves were stirring again but he was done worrying about them. At least for now. He called out again.

"Jilly? Donnie? Richie? Anyone?"

From the front of the group, well out of sight, came a bloodcurdling scream. He decided any repercussions from the boss would be better than what was out there. Suddenly, from his right, a malicious whisper.

"_Sooonnnyyy_…"

He dropped his whip and ran. Something sharp jabbed him in his back. There was just enough time for fear to flare through his body before he passed out.

* * *

Monty rolled the last guard over and pulled his eyelids up. He was out cold. He stood and called out softly.

"That's all of 'em, mates!"

"Golly," Gadget said, stepping up beside him. "It's a good thing I got him with that dart. It was the last one."

Nervous chatter was coming from the group of chained and frightened victims. They heard Chip's voice rise up in the night, loud enough to be heard by all, but not loud enough to attract any unwanted attention.

"It's okay everyone. We're the Rescue Rangers! We're here to help you! Just remain still and keep quiet while we get these chains off."

Monty dug through the guard's clothes until he found the keys. He could hear the other Rangers checking the other guards. In only two or three minutes everyone was free. They were crowding around, some crying, all trying to thank them. Several languages could be distinguished, but none of them English. Gadget was their resident multi-linguist and she was attempting to calm down those she understood.

Through a variety of verbal and non-verbal communication they managed to get them away from the dock where they were safe from Brian Cooper, his mysterious master, and his henchmen. Gadget spent the next several hours using the Ranger Wing to slowly ferry them in groups of three and four through the near zero visibility to Ellis Island where they could be helped.

While that was going on, Chip, Dale, and Monterey dragged the unconscious guards, including the two in the duct, to an out of the way corner. Then they collected numerous empty bottles from a nearby tavern and distributed them amongst the unconscious guards. With a little luck, someone would discover them and conclude they'd taken advantage of the crummy weather to shirk their duties, maintaining the element of surprise for later.

They finally arrived back home near three, where Foxglove was nervously waiting for them. They assured her everything was fine and that they would explain after a few hours of much needed sleep.

* * *

That morning, over a heaping plate of Monty's famous cheddar cheese biscuits and several pots of strong coffee, they went over the previous night in detail with Foxglove, but also to compare their observations with one another. By doing so they determined that there were somewhere close to a hundred cages in the room, with slightly less than half of them filled. Two dozen or so guards had been patrolling the room. They estimated another dozen or so outside, though they knew it was only a guess. Add in a possible hand full of unseen personnel, plus Brian and his boss, and they were looking at a force of more than forty. It would be a daunting challenge, and they would not be able to handle it on their own. The big question was who they could enlist to help them.

"Burke is the one who turned us on to Cooper in the first place," Foxglove said. "We should ask him what he thinks."

"That's a good idea," Chip replied. "And if we're going to make that meeting, we need to get moving."

They all agreed. They quickly cleaned up breakfast and piled into the Ranger Wing. A short flight later, they landed in a secluded area near the fountain where they were to meet Burke, who wasn't in sight.

"Burke certainly doesn't seem like the type to be tardy," Chip mused.

They waited for nearly fifteen minutes, but Burke never showed. In fact, they didn't see anyone, human or animal. The only exception was an old rat, stooped by age, his dark black fur streaked with a generous amount of white. He had been scavenging the park for something, his gait arthritic, since before they arrived. The next time he wandered close, Chip stopped him.

"Excuse me sir, I was wondering-."

"Not now, sonny, not now," he said in a shaky voice. "Got to find my marbles. Marbles marbles marbles."

"Your marbles?"

"Lost my marbles, I have." He shooed Chip with his cane. "Now stand aside, sonny. Got to find my marbles. Marbles marbles marbles." He wandered away. Chip looked back at the others, bewildered.

"He's lost his marbles," Chip said.

"I'll say," Dale replied.

They continued to wait, and with nothing better to do, watched the old rat wander back and forth across the park. Near ten, he wandered close to them again and spoke in a more than familiar voice.

"You'd think a group like the Rescue Rangers would offer to help a poor old codger find his marbles."

"_Burke_?!" they all exclaimed.

"Keep your voices down, mates. Don't want all this work to go to waste. Though I've covered the whole area pretty well. No sign of Benny or his stooges that I can find."

"Wowie, what a _great_ disguise!" Dale said.

"Well I can assure you my head would have long ago been separated from the rest of me if I weren't capable of a top notch disguise. Some of the places I'm dispatched to are particularly disinclined to welcome outsiders."

"Well, how did your meeting go?" Chip asked.

"Splendidly. Benny will be introducing me to Rat Capone tonight. Someplace called _The 33/45_."

"But that's up in the Bronx," Monty said.

"That's not Rat Capone's territory," Gadget said.

"There could be a couple of reasons he'd choose someplace out of his territory," Chip put in. "_The 33/45_ is a retro style diner, not known to be a hangout for the nefarious types. Capone's probably just playing it safe. Doesn't want to be seen associating with you until he's sure about you."

"Well I'll charm him, sure enough. My understanding is that immediately after the introduction, Benny will be sent packing so that Capone can interview me privately. After that, I'll be back in the networks and back on track. I can't thank you chaps enough for your help."

"We're glad to have been of service to you," Gadget told him.

Chip jumped in quickly, not liking the smile Burke turned on her.

"Burke, I'm afraid I need to ask you a question about your mission."

"Well, can't say I'll be able to answer it, but bung it out there."

"Does your mission have anything to do with…slave trafficking?"

A look of astonishment briefly crossed his face, clear even through the disguise.

"Why, in a manner of speaking, it does!" His voice suddenly took on a suspicious and slightly menacing tone. "How could you have known to ask that?"

"We were able to locate Brian Cooper. He has a depot for the trafficking of other animals down at the harbor."

Burke looked the Rangers over, the suspicious look gone. "I must say, that is absolutely _astonishing_. I would have bet the Crown Jewels that Brian Cooper was a dead end. And even assuming he wasn't, I wouldn't have expected that line of investigation to bear fruit for several weeks. You say Brian's depot is at the harbor, eh?"

"Not Brian's. There's someone else in charge. A very nasty character we haven't been able to identify. And it's a reasonably large operation. Not something we can handle on our own. We were hoping you might be able to assist us in bringing it down, as a return favor."

"I'm sorry, Chip. I really wish I could. But as I originally stated, Brian Cooper is a _parallel_ investigation. And it's just me on this assignment. I'm afraid that until I finish my mission, there's nothing that I can do for you."

"It's okay, lad." Monty told him. "We understand. But if we can't get this business figured out on our own by the time you're done with yours…"

"Then I should be very much obliged to assist you."

Monty extended his paw and Burked gripped it tightly. "We'll 'old ya to your word."

"And I'll be held to it. I'll be sure to check in before I head home. Just remember that if you encounter me before then to treat me as you'd treat any other nefarious opponent until I've made it clear it's safe to do otherwise."

Chip shook his hand as well. "If you ever need the Rescue Rangers again, we're here to help."

He didn't mention that he wouldn't have cared for his help, even if it meant bringing down Cooper's slave trade. Or how happy he was that this meant the end of any association he would have with Gadget.

"Chip, you're a gentleman and a scholar."

"And you also, sir." He gestured towards the Ranger Wing, eager to be done here. "Let's go, gang!"

They moved away, but Gadget lingered.

"Burke…"

Chip's blood froze in his veins, his body in mid-step.

"Yes, Miss Gadget, what can I do for you?"

"I hope…I hope this isn't too forward, but…"

She hesitated.

"Yes, go on."

"I thought…I thought you might like to have dinner with me."

Chip felt every muscle in his body tense. He turned towards Burke and Gadget. Now that the moment had come, he didn't know if he could just let it go. But then he felt Monty's hand on his shoulder. It was light, but when he looked around at him, Monty's eyes clearly said the restraint would be more forceful if needed. There was also a glimmer of sorrow there as he shook his head ever so slightly.

Chip decided to call what he hoped was a bluff and began to take a step towards them but the moment his body flinched in that direction, Monty's hand applied crushing pressure to his shoulder, almost making him cry out. He turned his head back to glare at him and Monty's face morphed into a slight scowl. He shook his head more forcefully and mouthed the word "no".

For a moment, Chip considered how far Monty might be willing to go to restrain him, but in the end decided not to test his much larger companion. He was only trying to help, and he had a much more objective perspective. Besides, no matter the outcome of the confrontation, making a scene in front of Gadget wouldn't win him any points with her. Probably the opposite. He focused his attention back on Burke to attempt to gauge his reaction.

"…See how that would work," Burke was saying.

"Actually, I have an idea that might just get you around that. I'm…familiar…with Rat Capone." She spoke the word "familiar" with an icy tone.

"Oh?"

"Yes. I know how he regards women. I'm almost certain this will work."

Chip listened to her outline her plan to him. He didn't like it. He didn't like it one bit.

"Well," Burke said with a look at Gadget that Chip also didn't like one bit, "I must say that sounds most intriguing. I think it's worth a shot."

"Then…see you tonight?"

Burke took her hand and kissed it with an obsequious bow of his head.

"It would be my most gracious pleasure."

Gadget flushed as he let her hand go. "Oh…Okay then. See you…tonight."

She turned and walked back towards the Ranger Wing. Dale, Foxy, and Zipper all had mildly surprised looks on their faces, but Gadget didn't seem to notice. She simply boarded the aircraft as normal. Chip took the seat beside her and made a Herculean effort to remove every drip of animosity from his voice so that she would hear only concern.

"Gadget…don't you think that's a bit dangerous?" And though it turned his stomach, for him to not have any chance of sounding jealous (which would surely bring down her wrath upon him), he added: "Isn't there some other way you could meet him?"

"Oh, don't worry, Chip. Everything should be fine."

They all froze when they heard the "magic word". But no one was unwise enough to say anything.

_Perfect_, Chip thought. _Just perfect_.

* * *

Chip watched dejectedly as Gadget left to meet Burke.

"Monterey," he said as soon as the door closed behind her, "Take the others and follow her. Do whatever you have to do without being seen, but don't let her out of your sight."

"Chippah…I'm not so sure that's a good idea."

"Well it's better than the alternative."

"She might not react too well."

"That's why I said not to be seen. If you are, send her to me._ I'll _deal with her."

"You don't think maybe it's none of our business to be nose-."

"_Damn it_, Monterey!" Chip yelled, stamping his foot. "Stop arguing with me, do what I said, and _follow_ her!"

Silence descended on the room as they all looked at him in shock. Monty's face was darkening into a thunderstorm. He would not tolerate being spoken to like that. Chip let out a huff of a sigh and pulled him aside, out of earshot of the others.

"Look, I'm sorry. But this isn't about the me-Gadget-Burke love triangle, okay? This is about Rat Capone. We've crossed him several times and came up on the short end at least once each time. A couple of those we just barely got out of. I'm not letting Gadget walk in there with who knows how many of Capone's goons in shouting distance with nothing but Burke to protect her. Just watch her. Stay out of sight unless something happens. But stay close. I've got absolutely no desire to stay behind, but I am. Just to be sure the interpersonal issues are clearly out of it. I neither want nor need the play by play, you don't have to report anything to me, just make sure she gets home safe. Okay? _Please_?"

Monty's face softened as Chip explained why he was so anxious. He realized he should've trusted Chip enough to not jump to the conclusion that he was doing this for personal reasons. He nodded.

"Aye, mate."

"Thank you. Now hurry before you lose her."

He raised his voice so the others could hear him. "All right, mates! You heard the man. Rescue Rangers away!"

They hurried out the door. Chip watched the door close, turned, grabbed a potted flower off the table and hurled it across the room with a roar. It crashed against the far wall and shattered, showering dirt everywhere. After a moment of heavy breathing, he sighed and headed for the kitchen to get the broom.


	4. Chapter 4

Burke had only minutes ago concluded the interview and moved on to the small talk when Gadget walked in the door. She looked around as though searching for a place to sit and her eyes locked on his for a fraction of a second as they passed him. He smiled at her timing. _The 33/45_ was a retro style diner, as Chip had described it, but done much better than he would've suspected of such a place.

Not long after their conversation started, Burke knew everything he needed to know about Rat Capone. He knew exactly the type of criminal he was and exactly how to manipulate him. To a large extent, by the interview's conclusion, he had most of what he wanted. He also knew that Capone's eyes strayed to the door every time it opened, and lingered there whenever the person entering was of the fairer sex.

He blatantly stared after Gadget as she crossed the room to an empty booth while keeping an eye on Capone with his peripheral vision. Sure enough, he noticed Burke's interest instantly.

"Ohhh, no," he said. "You don't wants _none_ of that."

"Really? And why wouldn't I?"

"Trust me. I've tried. And failed."

"And what, might I ask, was your approach?"

"I told her if she'd be my moll, I wouldn't kill her friends." He chuckled. "I didn't mean it, though."

"And she turned you down?" Burke asked incredulously, knowing Capone wouldn't pick up on the sarcasm. "Unbelievable."

"Yeah, I know. I guess she just don't know a good thing when she sees it. After all she is one a 'dem…_do gooders_." He said the word with great distaste. Burke rubbed his chin, keeping his eyes glued to Gadget's enticing form.

"A do gooder, eh? I _am_ quite fond of those. Nothing like pouring a little vinegar into some sweet young thing's milk bottle."

"And she's one a' dem…_Rescue Rangers_."

Burke feigned surprise and focused back on Capone. "Really? Had a nasty little run-in the other night with a couple of chipmunks laying claim to that moniker."

"Yeah…dat's dem. The one with the hat…he's the leader."

Burke's eyes wandered back to Gadget. "Hmmm…shag her until her legs won't cross, then have her take me home to meet the team and find out I'm blacker than Newgate's knocker. I think that's the worst thing I ever heard. How marvelous." He tossed the remainder of his drink back and stood.

"It'll never happen," Capone said.

"Not if she sees me associating with you. I'll be in touch, old chap."

He sauntered off, taking a circuitous route so he would appear to be coming from a different direction. Gadget had selected a booth that put her back to Capone and was doing a good job of looking around in a normal manner without casting her eyes in his direction. As Burke expected, Capone was watching with unbridled attention. He stopped next to Gadget's booth and looked down at her.

"Would you mind if I sat down?"

"I might."

"Why might you?"

"Well, I don't know _why_ you want to sit down."

"My feet are tired."

"Why?"

"Why do anyone's feet get tired?"

"Because they've been on them too long?"

"Exactly."

"How long have you been on yours?"

"A very long time. Longer than you can imagine."

"I don't know, I can imagine quite a bit."

"Then imagine more, and you'll be close."

She regarded him for a moment. This exchange hadn't been part of her plan, but it fit, and it was interesting. She gestured and he sat.

"Thank you."

"So why have you been on your feet for so long?"

"I've been walking. Seeking."

"Seeking what?"

He looked straight into her eyes. "Perfection."

"That's pretty vague. No wonder you've been walking so long. You should be more specific."

"I wasn't being vague, I was just summarizing."

"Well, you could be a _little_ more specific."

"I have been looking for wisdom, strength, beauty. Wisdom to rival Solomon, strength to rival Hercules, beauty to rival Helen of Troy. The knowledge of Archimedes, the power of the sea. The beauty of a sunset splayed red across the horizon, so much beauty that you can't take it all in and have to look away for fear your heart will burst."

"I can see why you've been searching so long. Why stop now?"

"Because I've finally found you."

Her heart skipped a beat and her eyes widened in surprise, not expecting that answer. He took her hand in both of his and brought it to his lips, kissing it gently.

"You encompass all the wisdom and strength and beauty in creation."

She blushed fiercely and looked down, as he expected her to. He quickly looked over at Capone and gave him a sadistic smile and a knowing wink. Capone grimaced angrily, stood, threw his napkin on the table with as much mustard as he could muster, and stomped out of the diner. Burke chuckled.

"What?"

"Capone is apparently irritated that my method of approaching with honey is more effective that his method of approaching with threats."

"It was very nice of you to say those things."

He still had her hand in his.

"I meant them."

She blushed again and smiled at him.

* * *

Their mission completed, Monty and his friends approached the door to RHQ when Foxglove stopped them.

"What if Gadget beat us home?" she asked.

"Nah," Monty said. "We got 'ere pretty quick. But if she is, we'll just tell her-"

"Tell her _what_?" Came an angry voice from behind them. They whirled and Gadget came out of the shadows towards them.

"Uh…Gadget, luv…we were just…uh…"

"Just _following_ me? Intruding on my personal business? Invading my _privacy_?" She was absolutely livid.

"Why no…uh…we were just-."

"Don't you _dare_ lie to me, Monterey Jack! I spotted you not five minutes after I left!"

"We didn't mean anything by it, luv! Chip just wanted us to-."

"_Chip_!? This was _Chip's_ doing? Where is he?"

"He's probably inside, but Gadg-."

She whirled around and flung the door open, stomped inside, and slammed it behind her. Her muffled angry voice rose immediately from inside. After a moment of nervous silence between them Dale spoke softly.

"Well…Chip said he'd deal with her."

"Something tells me he might regret that," Foxglove said sadly.

* * *

Chip was sitting at the table by the door when Gadget stormed in. His hands were folded in front of him, his eyes fixed on the flower that now lay in the middle of the table minus its pot. He looked up long enough to see the rage on her face and briefly meet her eyes. The anger he saw there directed at him squeezed his heart until it felt ready to burst and he looked back at the flower.

"How _dare_ you, Chip Maplewood!" she roared. "Have you no respect for the privacy of others? How could you send them out there to follow me?"

"Gadget," he began softly, not looking up, "I only wanted-."

"Well maybe this isn't about what _you_ want!" She flung out her arms to indicate the treehouse. "Maybe all this isn't about just what _you_ want! So what if you're our leader? That doesn't give you the right to control our lives! It certainly doesn't give you the right to meddle in _my_ personal affairs!

"I'm sorry about how things went between us the other day, but I honestly thought it had been settled as well as it could've been. And I never would've thought you would let your jealousy drive you to do something so dirty and underhanded! And you didn't even have the courage to do it _yourself_! You had to send the others! Get _them_ involved! How could you do that to them? How could you do that to _me_?"

She stood over him, glowering at him, daring him to meet her eyes.

"_Well_?"

"I just wanted you to be safe," he said softly.

This response caught her off guard, and she watched a single tear drop from his face onto the table.

"Rat Capone is dangerous. And he was meeting a stranger whom he was deciding whether or not to trust." His eyes remained fixed on the tabletop and his voice was barely above a whisper. It was a sharp contrast to the racket Gadget had been making. She had to strain to hear him. "He could have had dozens of people near at hand to call on. If something went wrong…You'd have been there all alone. And we wouldn't have known about it for hours. Which…probably would have been too late." He swallowed hard.

"I sent the others to look after you and protect you. I stayed behind because I didn't want you to think…what you think. Because I knew if you did, then anything there was between us might cease to exist. But I had to take the chance. Even if it meant the end of everything.

"Do I want you to be with Burke? No. I wouldn't want you to be with him even if I w_eren't_ interested. Because he's going to leave. And he's either going to break your heart or take you with him. And I don't want either one of those things to happen.

"This…didn't have anything to do with Burke. I just want you to be safe. And home. And happy. I guess…I guess that's too much for me to want."

He stood and turned away from her, never looking up, and walked to the hallway that led off the main room. He stopped with one hand on the doorframe, as though leaning against it for support. Gadget held her hand out to him, but couldn't find her voice. Couldn't make her legs move.

"I…I'm sorry, Gadget," he said without looking back. "For everything."

He disappeared down the hall.

"Chip…Chip, wait I…" She hung her head. "What have I done?" she whispered. She stood there a moment, horrified and guilt ridden. But there was only one thing to do. She had to go and apologize…if that were even possible. She took a deep breath and followed Chip out of the living room. Knocking softly on his door, she received no response. She risked opening it anyway. He was standing on the far side of the room staring out the window.

"Chip…"

He didn't acknowledge her presence.

"I didn't realize…I mean…I _should've_ realized…"

She sighed, walked up, and stood slightly behind him, put her hand on his shoulder.

"I'm so sorry. You know how I get when I'm angry. That's no excuse, I know. This situation with Burke…it's just got me all out of sorts. I _do_ care for you. You're very sp-."

Chip shrugged her hand off and stepped away, keeping his back to her. "No." His voice was still soft. "You can't do that. You can't have it both ways. You can't love me and choose him. It doesn't work that way. In the end, that would destroy even a professional relationship between us."

"But that's not…I don't want that."

He jerked his head around to meet her eyes, anger and pain clearly in his even in the dim light, his voice finally raised.

"You think I _do_?"

He stared her down for a moment then looked back out the window.

"Chip, I…"

His voice was soft again.

"You do what you have to do."

It was clearly a dismissal. She opened her mouth to say something more, but didn't know what. With a soft sigh, she turned and left.

* * *

Monty was almost always the first out of bed. Today though, Chip was already up and gone by the time he walked into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee brewing. A note lay on the table.

_Gang,_

_Seeking a solution to our manpower problem in the Brian Cooper case. Don't know when I'll be back._

_Chip_

He sighed. One of the things that worried him the most about their leader was that whenever he got his usually well controlled emotions stirred up, he had a tendency to strike out on his own. Work was his distraction, and he would dive into it with a single-minded determination that sometimes didn't include enough forethought. And as the day progressed, Gadget also resorted to her fall back position: locking herself in her workshop. The tension in the treehouse was almost thick enough to cut, and Chip and Gadget weren't even around. Who knew how things would be when they were?

As he piddled in the kitchen after lunch, toying with a new version of an old recipe, a heavy knocking came from the front door. He wiped his hands on a dishtowel and went to answer it. Before he could get to the door, the knock came again. It seemed almost frantic.

"All right, all right. 'Ang on, mate, I'm comin'."

He opened the door to find a tall, lanky, familiar mouse.

"Sparky!"

"Monterey Jack. Good to see you." He extended his hand and Monty shook it with gusto.

"Come on in, mate."

"Thank you."

He walked inside, looking quite nervous, even for him. "Uh…where is everybody?"

"Well, we're kinda spread out t'day. What can I help you with?"

He gestured to the couch and they sat. Sparky started talking but it wasn't long before Monty stopped him.

"Ya got a wee bit 'a time, mate?"

"Of course."

"Then best hold off a bit. _Everyone's_ gonna want t'hear this."


	5. Chapter 5

Chip looked around at the simple but elegant office. He had been waiting more than hour. A few moments ago he was escorted here and told that the Chair would be with him shortly.

Above them, the UN Building smacked of opulence and reeked of impotence. Not here. In these simple and understated chambers hung a sense of unity and purpose. The door opened behind him and he stood.

An elderly female mouse walked in, dressed simply in a large bow tied around her neck and a pill box hat in matching shades of soft purple. Despite the use of a cane she carried about her an elegance that was all but regal. In an almost unconscious motion, Chip removed his hat in respect. At the woman's elbow, delicately attending to her, was an equally elderly male mouse wearing a comfortable looking maroon sweater and a tattered brown cap.

"Madame Chairwoman," he said, unconsciously bowing his head.

"Please, none of that. It's Bianca, darling, I insist." She settled into her chair with a sigh and gestured to her companion. "My husband, Bernard. Please, sit."

She pronounced "Bernard" with the emphasis on the first syllable. She had a delicate accent that Chip couldn't quite place. Slavic, maybe.

"Thank you for seeing me on such short notice."

"Oh it's nothing, darling, not for you. I'm sorry to have kept you waiting. Getting around isn't as easy as it used to be. But I must say, we here at The Rescue Aid Society are quite enamoured with the fine work you and the Rescue Rangers do. It's such a shame we haven't met before now."

"I'm sorry that our meeting has been prompted by unfortunate circumstances."

"Oh, pish posh. Unfortunate circumstances introduce us to some of the finest people we shall ever meet. Why it was because of unfortunate circumstances that I met my dearest Bernard. And we've been married now for many, many happy years, haven't we dear?"

"We certainly have."

"Now, tell me Chip, how can I assist you?"

"Well, there's no delicate way to say this, so I'll just come right out with it. The Rescue Rangers have discovered an operation here in New York trafficking other animals for slave labor, or worse."

Bianca and Bernard both gasped in shock.

"We estimate their number at more than forty. Far too large a force for us to take on alone."

Bianca looked back at her husband sadly. "Slavers, Bernard. Here. I almost can't believe it." Bernard laid his hand comfortingly on her shoulder as she turned back to Chip.

"I'm Hungarian, Chip. I grew up during the heart of the Cold War. So I've seen more than my fair share of crimes against humanity, both in the human and animal worlds. It's the main reason I joined the Rescue Aid Society. I can assure you that we will do everything in our power to support you.

"I will call an emergency meeting immediately. Unfortunately, it will take a day or two for all the delegates to arrive." A small wistful smile played at her lips. "Though back when I was a young agent, it could take a month. I promise you, Chip, you will have our full support."

"Thank you, Bianca."

"You will be summoned when the meeting is set. Your whole team is welcome. I should be very pleased to meet them all."

"And they you."

Bianca stood, Chip stood with her.

"Then I shall set about it at once."

She came around the desk and hugged him like an old friend.

"It was so very good to meet you, Chip."

She preceded them out of the office. Bernard stopped long enough to exchange a nod and shake hands. Then they were gone.

* * *

He arrived home later in the day. Truthfully, he had been avoiding it. Or even more truthfully, avoiding Gadget. It seemed as though he had lost any chance of a relationship with her, and it was starting to look like even their friendship might be at an end. The very thought was almost enough to bring him to his knees.

He stopped in front of the door and steeled himself, shoving his emotions down deep and locking them up. His leadership role had to take precedence over his petty emotional issues or the entire team would be at risk. He took a deep breath and opened the door.

He was surprised to see their old friend Sparky there, and the gang were gathered around him almost apprehensively. He looked them over but wouldn't…couldn't…meet Gadget's eyes.

"Chip! Glad you're 'ere mate. Sparky's got somethin' important to tell us."

Chip extended his hand and Sparky shook it. "What can we do for you?"

"Uh…it'd be best if you sat down for this."

Chip looked at him curiously but complied. Sparky paced in front of the couch, seeming to talk mostly to himself, his hands constantly in motion.

"It's been two weeks now since Gene went missing. That's how long we wait. Because we never know how long it'll take one of us to get back. We've got to be absolutely sure our location isn't compromised. Wait. Let me back up. Gene is one of the specialists I've been working with…wait, no I need to back up some more." He took a deep breath.

"About a year and a half ago, I left MIT and started working over at NIMH in the behavioral science division. We were researching conditioned response, not through behavior modification but by using electrical stimulus. And I don't mean the punishment/reward stuff. Direct electrical stimulus of the neo-cortex. Real cutting edge stuff. The things we were discovering about the brain…absolutely amazing.

"But then one day, the human researchers took two of us out of the lab. Don and Marlene. They came back a week later. Both had received some sort of surgery. Scars on their heads. Something had been implanted. They both were a little off. Mentally, I mean. Random odd behavioral shifts. Gaps in their memories. Sometimes they would come back from the lab with no memory at all of what the humans had been testing.

"But then one day I was in the lab with them, and I overheard the humans talking. 'Neuro-compliance chip', they called it. Just the name gave me a cold chill. And then…then they turned it on. Don and Marlene…their faces just went blank. Like their souls had suddenly been ripped out of their bodies. The humans started giving them commands. And they ran around doing everything the humans said. Like…like little mammalian robots. It was monstrous."

He finally stopped pacing and turned to look at them, abject horror on his face, in his eyes.

"Mind control chips. That's what the humans implanted in them. One hundred percent effective mind control chips."

Hearing it put so bluntly finally made it sink in. They sat on the couch in stunned silence, all but unable to believe what they were hearing. Sparky started pacing again.

"When they put me back and I told the others…they reacted the same way you are. Don and Marlene…when they heard what had been done to them they were terrified in a way I can't even describe. Of course, we all agreed we had to get out of there that night. Had to get Don and Marlene as far away from the controller as possible. So we did. The first couple of days we spent on the move, trying to find a safe location. When we finally did, we stocked up and hunkered down.

"A few of us went back to the lab. We had to learn more. We broke into the humans' computers. Thankfully, we found that only two of the chips had been created and that none of the research had been farmed out. It was all done in-house. But of course it had to be. As unethical as the project was if the right people found out those scientists would be finished.

"The control mechanism is a simple oscillating RF signal, amplitude modulated. The oscillation is necessary to keep ordinary radio station broadcasts from activating the chips.

"Once we gleaned all the information we could, we got into every cupboard, cabinet, rack, nook and cranny we could get into, got every flammable liquid we could get our paws on. And we destroyed that place. Burned everything. That was six weeks ago."

"Of course!" Chip exclaimed. "It was on the news a couple of days ago. Some kind of follow up story. They said that they still don't know how the fire started and that no research was lost."

"Of course they'd say that. Can't very well let the world find out what they were doing."

"Can you remove the chips?" Gadget asked.

"No. According to the humans' research notes, the chips are wired microscopically into their brains. Any attempt to remove them would almost certainly be fatal. The scientists, mad doctors more accurately, that performed the implantation might be able to do it."

"But those are the last people on earth you'd want anywhere near Don and Marlene," Foxglove said.

"Exactly. But here's the most important thing. The research notes also made two other things explicitly clear. One, while they didn't farm out any of the R&amp;D, they _were_ liaising with a few other labs overseas. And two, they're looking for us. Quietly and covertly, but desperately. They've already put out feelers."

"The problem with that," Chip said, "Is that once the cat is out of the bag, it's not going to be contained."

"Right. That information is out there now. It's _been_ out there for almost two months. There's no telling who might know about these chips, and who might know they're up for grabs. And they would have to be removed to be re-created. Don and Marlene's lives will _always_ be in danger."

"But to find two specific mice in the whole world?" Gadget said.

"Yes, exactly. Right now they're vulnerable because they're still in the general area of where they went missing. We've got to get them out of the city and as far from here as we can. We've been operating under the assumption that if we stay hidden for a few months, the search would ease off and we could get out safely. But that's no longer an option."

"Why?" Dale asked.

"Ah, yes. That brings me back to Gene."

"Who's been missing for two weeks," Chip said, bringing them full circle back to the beginning of the story.

"Yes. Two weeks. That's the length of time we all agreed to before we started looking for someone. We knew anyone who went out for supplies might not be able to come directly back. If they thought they were being tracked or followed in any way, they needed to be sure they weren't going to lead someone back to our hideout.

"It's never happened before. Whoever left has always been back within a few hours. We try to only go out at night. But Gene's been gone too long now. And in the last few days we've realized that it's not just simply a matter of finding him."

"You don't know if your location has been compromised," Chip said, quickly picking up on where Sparky was going.

"Exactly. Logic suggests it hasn't or something would already have happened. But we can't know that for sure. We need to get them out. Which means we _all_ need to get out. Don and Marlene will need people to help them. That stands to be us. But we'll all have to go at the same time. We can't leave anyone behind who knows where we're going or_ that_ location could be compromised as well."

"How many are you?" Gadget asked.

"Twelve," Sparky replied. But then he closed his eyes and sighed. "Eleven."

Gadget stood and took his hand. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. He might yet turn up."

"We'll find a way to move you, Sparky," Chip promised.

"Ya know," Monty said, "It's a shame Burke can't help us on this one. This'd be right up his alley."

Chip's eyes widened in sudden insight. "But that's it!" he exclaimed.

"What's it?" Monty asked.

"_That's_ Burke's mission!"

"What, moving Sparky?"

"No. The mind control chips. He's looking for the mice with the mind control chips!" He started pacing, head down, hand raised to the level of his eyes as he worked through it. "Think about how secretive he's been about what his mission is. And he works deep cover assignments. When I asked him yesterday if his mission had anything to do with slave trafficking he replied 'in a manner of speaking'. And when I told him about Cooper's operation he said 'so it's at the harbor'. As though he already knew about it, just not where it was.

"Sparky, did the research notes say where the overseas labs the one here was working with were located?"

"London, Prague, and Bonn."

"See! London! I'll bet Burke was working undercover in a division of Cooper's slave trade in London. Dean is running the London side, Brian and whomever he's working for is running this side. Remember, Lucio said that Dean only showed up at the Acorn Club when there was a big meeting. He has to come all the way from London. Word about the chips makes its way to him. Now Dean's operation is looking for them. After all, a mind control device would be a slaver's dream come true. Burke reports back to his superiors who order him to find them before someone else can.

"He comes back here with Dean, but is found out before Dean tells him where Brian's side of the operation is located. And then Dean refuses to be taken alive, which ends up sending Burke to us. _That's_ why he needed to reconnect with the criminal element. He's probably the only good guy looking for the chips. And even though he finds our reputation is good, he's not about to tell us what, or who, he's looking for. Way too risky."

"But if that's true," Gadget said, "Then why did he tell us he couldn't help us take down Cooper's operation?"

"Because he doesn't _want_ it taken down. He needs it up and running so he can use their people to help him find the mice! And without Dean to introduce him, he can't just waltz into Brian's operation. So he has to worm his way in from the side through someone like Capone. But having us find out where it was at could only benefit him."

"So he _was_ using us," Foxglove said.

"Sort of, yes. Just not the way I originally accused him of. "

Monty looked skeptical. "It all fits, Chippah, but it's awfully thin, don't you think?"

"Real life usually is."

"So this Burke person," Sparky said, "He can help us?"

"If he's as good as he claims to be, almost certainly," Chip replied. He kept his gaze fixed on Sparky. "Gadget, when's the next time you're going to see Burke?"

"Tomorrow."

"Sparky, can you sit tight a few more days?"

"If we must."

"We'll put our heads together here. There's got to be a way to ask Burke if he's looking for these mice without giving away the secret ourselves. If we can confirm, we'll come up with an extraction plan and get you guys the heck out of here. Can you meet us back here in say…five days?"

"Assuming I'm not delayed in getting back there now, yes."

"When you get back, tell the others that when you return the next time it will either be with the plan already in motion and we'll be with you to evacuate them, or that you'll be bringing them to meet us somewhere in the very near future."

"I will," Sparky said. He shook all their hands. "Thank you. All of you." He hurried out the door.

Chip turned to the team. "I've got some news as well." He filled them in on his meeting with Bianca. Their plates already overfilled, they agreed to take on no new cases until the current situation was resolved. That basically meant there was nothing to do for the next couple of days. After suggesting they all use the time to rest up, Chip announced he was taking the Ranger Bike out for a pleasure cruise and left.

* * *

Gadget sat forlornly in her workshop, staring at a broken piece of equipment but unable to get her mind to focus on it enough to repair it when there was a knock at the door.

"Come in, please."

Foxglove slipped inside and closed the door softly behind her.

"Hi, Gadget."

"Hello, Foxglove. What can I do for you?"

"Actually," she replied, slipping onto the stool next to her, "I came to see if there was something _I_ could do for _you_."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I know I haven't been here that long, but I think we've gotten fairly close."

"Absolutely. It's nice to have the male dominance broken down a little bit."

"Exactly. I hope you know, then, that if you ever need to talk…you know…girl to girl…I'm here for you."

Gadget hung her head. "Is it that obvious?"

"Only about as obvious as the sun on a clear day. What's going on with you two? He wouldn't even look at you out there today."

She sighed heavily. "I don't know. I'm not even sure anymore that the problem is with us. I'm starting to think it's just me."

"Oh, nonsense. Chip's been acting oddly too. Interpersonal issues do that."

"No, really. I'm different. Somehow. I even feel different. I'm acting different. Irrational, mood swings. Like last night. I completely unloaded on Chip, and I was completely wrong."

"So he's mad at you today."

"No. No, not all. Even worse. He's disappointed in me. I automatically assumed he had the worst intentions. But I know him so much better than that. That's part of what I mean when I say I feel different. I know good and well he would never do that. But I accused him of it anyway. That's why he's disappointed. I've failed in his trust."

"How did it get to this?"

Gadget let it all out. Starting with the way she felt instantly captivated by Burke, all the way through the events of the previous night.

"I don't know what it is, Foxy. Every time I get around Burke I get like some lovesick little girl when her crush walks through the room. And it's going to totally destroy everything that Chip and I have ever had together."

"Well Gadget, there are two things I know to be absolutely, bet your life on it certain. One: it's impossible to be truly in love with two different people. You can love one and be _infatuated_ with the other. But you can only truly love one person at a time. Infatuation is temporary, honey. True love…that's forever. And two: Chip is one hundred percent, head over heels in love with you."

"He's told you that?"

"Not with words. But the way he acts around you…it couldn't be any more obvious. And I'll tell you something else: love like that only comes your way a few times in this life, if at all."

"So you're saying I should stop seeing Burke."

"No. That's a choice that only you can make. I'm saying when you make a choice like this, you shouldn't make it lightly."

"I just get so confused around him…"

"So then make your decision when you're not around him. Or Chip, for that matter. Love with your heart, but you gotta choose with your mind." She tapped the side of her head for emphasis. "Sometimes you've gotta get away from your heart to be able to do that."

Gadget looked down and nodded slowly. She took a breath then looked back up, ready for a subject change.

"So do you think you and Dale will ever…?"

"Ever what?"

"You know…get together."

Foxy laughed. "Oh, honey, Dale and I have been joined at the hip for three months now."

"Joined at the…?"

"Banging each other."

Gadget's face turned bright red. "Oh."

Foxy laughed again. "Too much info?"

"Mmm."

"Dale's a sweetheart. He's cute as a button. He's kind and funny. He's a _fabulous_ lover. I don't know that there's any permanence there, but we're enjoying what we have together now. That's what's important."

Despite her embarrassment, curiosity got the better of her. "How exactly…does that…work?"

"Oh honey, we're both mammals. It's not like we're trying to put a square peg in a round hole. We have to get a little creative sometimes, but that just adds to the fun. The physical stuff though, that's just the icing on the cake. I like being around him. He makes me feel good. And I do the same for him. That's the important part about who we choose in this life. We're all a little empty inside. We're created that way. You've got to find that person who fills your empty spot at the same time you fill theirs."

"I just don't know a lot about that kind of thing."

"Don't worry, sweetie. It'll come in time."

They talked the evening away.


	6. Chapter 6

Gadget set the Ranger Wing down gently in DeWitt Park nearly in the same place as before their meeting here two days ago. Though she was early, Burke was already here waiting for her. They'd agreed a night flight around the city would be an excellent second date. The props sighed as the electric motors shut down and she climbed out.

Though she originally hadn't planned on altering her attire, a look at herself in the mirror earlier for some reason changed her mind. Her "dressy" wardrobe was limited, but from it she chose a simple ankle length aquamarine skirt and understated white blouse.

"Gadget, you look lovely," Burke said as she approached.

Her heart rate increased as she approached and she got that fluttery feeling in her chest that she always got around him. She'd never been lovesick before, and it was both a disorienting and yet elating experience. He extended his hand and she offered hers, which he lifted to his mouth and gently kissed.

"Thank you," she said shyly.

"I'm rather looking forward to this," he said. "I've been all over the world, but this is my first time in New York."

"It's a beautiful city."

"With beautiful inhabitants," he said, looking pointedly at her.

She chose not to respond and gestured to the Ranger Wing. "Shall we?"

"Why certainly."

Burke walked around the aircraft with a critical eye. "What a marvellous piece of engineering. And you built this?"

"Yes."

"The boys back home don't have anything like this. You know, a person with your skills would be quite valuable there."

She wasn't quite sure how to interpret the comment. It could have been just the casual offhand comment it seemed to be. But considering that Burke would eventually be returning to England, it was also possible he was putting out a feeler. The second date seemed a little early for that.

"That may be true, but my home is here." Chip's words from the other night came floating back to her. _I just want you to be safe. And home. And happy._

"Oh, didn't mean to offend. Just making an observation, that's all."

"Shall we be off?'

"Certainly."

They climbed aboard and strapped in. Gadget engaged the motors and they lifted off smoothly.

"Burke, I'm afraid I'm going to have to press you regarding exactly what your mission here is."

"I'm sorry, Gadget, but I just can't discuss it. Even if I didn't have orders explicitly forbidding it, this mission is too sensitive to discuss with anyone."

"Well, the thing is, we think we know what your mission is. And if we're right, we're very aware of how critical it is that the details don't get out. Because we believe we're working the same case from a different side. And if so, we really need to be working together."

Burke was eyeing her suspiciously. "Gadget, I seriously doubt there is any possible way that could be true."

"Well the trick is how to find out."

"I'm open to suggestions."

"We think we've figured out how. I'm going to give you some letters that wouldn't mean anything to you if we're wrong, but absolutely would if we're right."

"Go on…"

"Okay, group one. Alphabetically, not as they should be. I want you to put them in the proper order. I-H-M-N."

His suspicious look grew more severe. "N-I-M-H," he responded. "The I and the H stand for Institute and Health."

"The N and the M stand for National and Mental."

He shook his head. "This can't be."

"Okay, the next set. N, C, and C."

"Who are you working with? Who have you been talking to?"

"I might ask you the same questions."

"I've already told you. I work for a covert arm of Her Majesty's Secret Service, animal division. And there is no _way_ you could know about my mission! Not unless you have been performing espionage against us."

"What if I told you that the Rescue Rangers are aquatinted with those you are looking for?"

"I would find it extremely difficult to believe."

"Have we at least both come to the conclusion we're on the same subject?"

"We seem to be."

"Well there's only one way to be absolutely sure. One of us needs to stop beating around the bush."

"I'm sorry, Gadget but that won't be me. I _cannot_ disobey a direct order."

"Then I'll trust you. You're looking for the two mice that NIMH scientists implanted with successful prototypes of a neuro-compliance chip…mind control chips."

Burke looked at her for a long moment, reached underneath his blazer, and drew a mouse-sized revolver. He pointed it at her. Her eyes widened.

"It's very real," he said. "Designed by Swiss jewelers and watchmakers. It's also very lethal." His voice and stare grew frigid. "Tell me how you know that. And I strongly advise you to tell the truth."

Gadget's eyes were fixed on the barrel of the gun. "If you shoot me, you'll crash."

"I think I could manage well enough to survive. And if necessary, this cause is important enough to die for. I'll take the risk."

Gadget looked up from the pistol and regarded him icily, a tight coil of fear around her heart. "A couple of years ago, we had a bank robbery case. A scientist trained a guinea pig to run a maze he'd constructed to mirror the city's sewer system. He built a robot that interfaced with his brainwaves and allowed him to act as the robot's control system. The specific route through the maze was dictated by following an alarm bell.

"He trained a mouse how to find and short circuit an alarm bell, this behavior triggered by a whistle. He would prime the guinea pig at the starting point in the sewer, insert the mouse into the targeted bank while it was still open, and after it closed, call the bank's telephone and-."

"Blow a whistle when the answering service picked up. Whistle activates mouse, mouse activates alarm, alarm activates guinea pig. Bank gets robbed. Ingenious! But how does that relate?"

"We became friends with both of them. The mouse, Sparky, was working at the NIMH lab where he discovered that the scientists had implanted the neuro-compliance chips into two of the mice he was working with. He helped them escape. Yesterday he came to us for help and told us everything."

Burke was nodding, lips pursed. "And how did you determine my mission had anything to do with it?"

"Chip figured it out. He's a brilliant detective. All the clues were there, he just put it all together. It was sending us after Cooper that did it for him." She walked him through how Chip reasoned it out. "Of course, we couldn't be sure until we talked to you about it."

They were both as tense as piano strings. Finally, after a moment of consideration, Burke relaxed and returned the pistol to its place under his blazer.

"You're right, that _is_ quite a job at deduction. I need to advance the lad up a few notches. I apologise, Gadget. But you obviously understand how important this is, how vital it is that those mice don't fall into the wrong hands. The result would be…unthinkable. I had to be _absolutely_ certain that you were telling the truth. The nature of my job requires me to be suspicious, no matter my personal opinion."

"I understand."

"So we're okay?"

"Yes."

"Good. I'm glad."

"So…so am I."

"So then, how about you show me this fine city of yours?"

"Okay."

She gave him the full aerial tour as they swapped adventure stories, and the subject eventually worked back to the mission at hand. She explained their hope that he could come up with a good extraction plan, and then broached the subject of taking down Cooper's slave trade. He was enthusiastic of both ideas, and said he was happy to no longer be working the case on his own. They decided to meet again the next night at RHQ to go over some details and then head out on their own for a nice dinner. And thanks to Chip, she knew just where to take him.

* * *

Burke stood next to Capone, watching several henchmen add to the already considerable pile of loot in the corner of the underground storage room. Like the last several jobs Burke had advised on, this one had gone off without a hitch.

"Well," Burke said, "Things certainly seem to be looking up, don't they?"

Capone's two ever-present right and left hand men merely glowered at him and grunted. The lizard and large mouse didn't seem to care for their boss' new friend.

"I'll say," Capone replied. He was clearly more than a little pleased. "What about this sudden change that's got you sucking up a bunch of my manpower? Come up with any leads?"

"Not just yet. But that's not entirely unexpected."

"Well you've certainly got a lot of _my_ men running around on _your_ errands."

"I thought we had an understanding," Burke replied, a hard edge creeping into his voice. "I help you, you help me?"

"We did, we did."

Burke gestured to the incoming pilfered goods and turned a cold eye to Capone. "I'm holding up my end well enough. Perhaps you shouldn't be so quick to be done with our association."

Capone held his hands in front of him in a supplicating gesture. "Easy, easy. I didn't mean nothin' by it. Just remarkin', that's all."

Burke looked away from him.

"What about that pretty blonde Rescue Ranger? Mission accomplished yet?"

Burke glanced back at him from the corner of his eye. Capone was just trying to placate him. He didn't care and didn't really approve, though only because he didn't like the fact that Burke was succeeding where he'd struck out. "Well, that's a mixed bag. Four dates now, and each have gone swimmingly. But when we come to the end she gets colder than the Thames in January. Haven't got so much as a snog out of her."

Capone looked at him curiously. "A…'snog'?"

"Yes, you know, a…" Burke thought a moment and realized he didn't know the equivalent American expression. He waved his hand in dismissal, not wanting to give the descriptive. "Never mind. But needless to say I'm beginning to have my doubts that I'll get in her knickers before she finds out I'm one of the bad guys."

Capone gave him a cockeyed glance.

"You know, I just can't get over that funny accent. It's like you're talkin' English, but not really talkin' English."

Burke turned a look of unbridled contempt on him. "Funny. I've always thought the same thing about Americans. After all, the language_ was_ ours first." He was about to point out that Capone's English didn't even qualify as the American version but decided it was probably better to let that dog lie. He _did_ have the majority of Capone's men running around on completely pointless errands that served only to disrupt the local criminal underground in preparation for the raid on Cooper's facility at the harbor tomorrow night.

They'd met with the RAS general assembly that afternoon and decided, mostly at Burke's insistence, that time was of the essence. Sparky would be returning in two days for the extraction plan. That needed to be done as quickly as possible and Burke wanted Cooper's operation taken care of before that.

When informed of a slave trafficking operation, the assembly was quietly outraged. There were 32 agents present of an age and physical condition suited for the mission. All immediately volunteered to help bring them down. The plan from there was simple. Overrun them. He and the Rangers planned to move in first. Foxglove would circle above, using her echolocation to identify guards' positions. The rest of them would come in behind her and take them out one by one.

Once the above ground guards were neutralized, the rest of them would swarm the holding facility, overrun the personnel there, and free the slaves. They would need a little luck on their side to ensure Brian and his mysterious master were both there. They'd search the complex, round up any stragglers, and then they would all be turned over to the RAS team to be held accountable.

Gadget was modifying her dart gun to act as a semi-automatic rifle with a ten round magazine, as well as creating several magazines for it. Monty was mixing copious amounts of his tranquilizing agent and preparing the darts

It sounded easy enough, but Burke knew good and well how quickly an operation like this could go pear shaped. As for his extraction plan, despite the fact they were working together, he would not reveal it until it was set in motion. This _had _to turn out favorably. He would take no risks.

* * *

The day dawned cold and hard. They sat at the kitchen table quietly, consuming towering stacks of Monty's cheese flaps and downing numerous pots of coffee. There was a heavy pressure in the air, a feeling of something looming over them. The feeling persisted throughout the day, and they left RHQ for the harbor with an uneasy feeling of foreboding.

Though they approached from the north during their first scouting mission, the decision was made to bring what Bianca called the "task force" in from the south. This was primarily because the only entrance they found the first time was the duct, but they saw the prisoners they freed brought in and out on the opposite side. They met up with the RAS group shortly before dusk to wait for nightfall.

As the sun set, the wind died, leaving not so much as a whisper to stir the water. Chip looked up to where Foxglove was perched on a lamppost and gave her a nod. She nodded back and dropped from the post and into flight. They advanced into the harbor cautiously, Chip on point, Gadget, Monty, and Dale behind him, and Burke bringing up the rear.

It didn't take long for Foxy to locate the first guard's position. She dove at him, startling him out of his hiding place. He looked up at her as she passed him and climbed away.

"Hey!" Chip called softly.

The guard turned towards him, confused and Gadget fired the tranq gun, hitting him square in the chest. He dropped to his knees and onto his face.

"One down, several to go," Dale said. He giggled as though he'd just told a joke. If so, Chip certainly didn't get it.

"Dale," he hissed, "_Quiet_."

They continued that way for several minutes, taking out four more guards when Gadget suddenly squeaked. They whirled to see an unnoticed guard had grabbed her from behind. The guard stripped the gun from her as they started to react, but taking the gun left her with a free hand. She elbowed the guard hard in the gut and when he staggered, she whirled and planted her foot firmly in his groin. The guys grunted in sympathy pain as Gadget retrieved her tranq gun and shot the guard point-blank.

"That's our Gadget," Monty said.

They encountered no more resistance and Chip signaled Foxy to return and signal the rest of the task force to advance. A quick search of the area revealed the entrance to the pump room.

"All right, old chaps. Hold position here and wait for the Calvary. I'm going to reconnoiter."

"You shouldn't go alone," Gadget said. "It's too dangerous."

"Oh, nonsense. They'll not know I'm there until well after the fracas has begun. If I haven't alerted you to the contrary, proceed with the raid when the others arrive."

He drew his revolver and disappeared across the threshold.

"Was that a _gun_?" Chip asked.

"Yes," Gadget answered. "Made by the Swiss, he said."

They all stared at her expectantly. Flicking her eyes in Chip's direction she quickly decided not to reveal that he'd threatened her with it. Not being in the moment, they might not understand.

"He…showed it to me the other night."

"And you weren't planning on mentioning it?" Chip asked.

Gadget raised her nose a bit defensively. "It hadn't come up."

He chose not to pursue the discussion, at least not now. Maybe later. After a few minutes, the rest of the task force arrived, led by Bianca and Bernard's son, Timothy.

"Where's Burke?" he asked.

"Scouting ahead. He said to proceed when you arrived."

"Then let's do this."

Chip pointed across the dock to the duct they used last time. "There will be two guards in there."

Timothy turned and pointed to three of his men.

"Justin, Jeremy, Nicodemus, take care of it."

The three hurried off. They watched them proceed until they disappeared into the duct. Timothy threw his hand forward.

"Let's go!"

The inside was pitch black and they had to make their way carefully down a ramp, but as they progressed it steadily grew brighter. The ramp ended at a doorway. A careful peak around the corner revealed the holding area. Chip looked back at the group.

"This is it. Everyone ready?"

37 heads bobbed in unison. Chip looked at Timothy.

"_Charge_!" they shouted together.

The task force flowed out of the corridor as though a dam above had burst. The first several guards didn't have a chance as they were overrun. Gadget stayed in the rear, tranquilizing guards as they were taken down. Chip tore a key ring away from one of them and tossed it to Timothy, who looked behind him.

"Cynthia, the prisoners!" he shouted, tossing the keys behind him. A rust colored mouse caught them and began opening the cages. As prisoners were freed they joined in the melee, eager to revisit the guards' cruelty back on them.

The guards further in the room were more tricky. They were all armed with whips and clubs, but these guard had the time to draw them. Chip dove to the floor as a whip cracked over his head. It took one of the prisoners charging behind Chip in the chest, but the man never slowed down. He tackled the guard and pummeled him with his fists.

Looking left as he got up he saw Monty engaged with a rat swinging a miniature night stick. Monty was dodging or deflecting most of the blows, but a few were hitting home. He charged to his aid. The rat saw him coming and his attention wavered for a brief moment, but enough for Monterey. He leveled the man with a left cross. They met eyes and nodded, then turned, looking for another target. But there were none. A few skirmishes were left but they were winding down quickly. Chip looked around.

"Where's Burke?"

"Beats me."

"We'd better find him. He could be in trouble."

Across the room, underneath the vent grate where they'd watched the holding area from…could it really have only been a week ago?…was another passage, the only other leading from the holding area. Burke managing to get there without being seen was an impressive feat.

They rushed forward, heedless of any possible encounters with more guards. The passage led into the room containing the pump for the dry-dock. It had been turned into an office. Burke knelt on the far side of the room next to the bodies of Brian Cooper and his mysterious master. He appeared to be checking Brian's pulse. He turned when he heard them enter. They looked at him, shocked.

"You _killed_ them?" Chip exclaimed.

"No choice, I'm afraid Chip," he said sadly. He held up a dagger he must have taken from one of them. "All my fault, really. I was trying to keep them talking, keep them calm. The sounds of the fight out there started up and I glanced over my shoulder. All the distraction they needed. They charged me." He sighed and shook his head. "I know better than to turn my back like that. Such a waste. The things we might have learned from them."

"Couldn't you have shot them in the leg or something?"

"Chip, can you tell me how long it takes an attacker to charge you from six and a half meters? Hmm?" His raised voice had a hard edge. "A second and a half. Two if they're slow. That I had time to get off shots at both of them at all is remarkable. I didn't have time to aim." He stood, saw the look on Chip's face and sighed. "Sorry, mate. It's me I'm angry at, not you. How's it going out there?"

"All over but th'cryin', mate."

"Well then…let's shed some tears, shall we?"

They walked back into the holding area. The RAS people were moving among the unconscious guards, binding their hands behind their backs. The ones that had been subdued before Gadget could tranq them were already securely tied. Timothy walked up to Chip and extended his hand. Chip shook it.

"Much easier than I imagined," he said. "Some minor injuries, lacerations from the whips, including your friend Dale. Some bad contusions from being clubbed, though none too serious. Gadget and a few of ours left to search the remainder of the harbor, with the help of Foxglove. We should have the whole place cleared out in a couple of hours. What about the ringleaders?"

"Burke was unfortunately required to defend himself with lethal force."

"What's unfortunate about that? They _all_ deserve a pair of cement overshoes if you ask me."

"Perhaps," Burke said, "But it would've been much better if we could have interrogated them."

"Well, what's done is done. No sense crying over spilled milk."

Chip didn't particularly agree, but he left it alone. He went to check on Dale. He had a deep gash in his arm and was being treated by one of the several RAS medics who were there.

"Check it out, Chip," he said, raising his arm. Chip was taken aback by how much damage a simple strip of leather could do. "You know chicks dig scars."

"Foxglove will be very pleased then."

Dale chuckled. He leaned close to Chip and said in a low voice: "Foxy's already very pleased…and not because of my arm." He laughed hysterically.

"Really didn't need to know that, Dale." Despite that, he was glad his friend had found happiness. Burke showed up at his side and examined Dale's wound.

"Not too bad, in the long run," he said.

"So now that things are wrapped up here," Chip said, "What's the plan for tomorrow?"

"Sorry Chip, but I'm playing those cards _very_ close to the chest. It's not that I don't trust you, but you know how important this is. When Sparky shows up, we'll escort him to a location I've pre-selected as a staging area. He'll fetch the others and we'll proceed from there."

"Good enough."

Though not necessary, they hung around until all of the captured criminals had been rounded up and taken away. The former prisoners were also entrusted to the RAS. The process of getting them all home could take months. Some would have nowhere to go and have to integrate with society here.

Gadget and Burke spent most of the time in an out of the way corner talking. Tomorrow was very likely Burke's last day here before returning to England. She would soon be forced to make what could be a life altering choice for them all.

* * *

_A quick note: While not quite as small as I make it out to be, the Swiss mini-gun does indeed exist. The 5.5 cm long rim fire revolver comes with a keychain holster, is totally cool, and totally illegal in the US and UK._


	7. Chapter 7

Gadget expertly piloted the Ranger Wing low along the north side of JFK airport to avoid the heavy traffic above them. Burke sat beside her while Chip and Sparky rode in the rear seat.

"You know, it's funny. I've never actually landed at an airport before," she said. "A spaceport once, if that counts."

"Well sorry to disappoint you," Burke replied, "But I'm afraid you won't be landing at one now, either." He pointed to their left. "You see that waste area across the highway, right off the end of the runway?"

Gadget scanned the area where Burke was pointing. "Got it."

"On the east side of it, there's a maintenance shed. Put us down there."

She did as Burke instructed, touching down neatly beside it. She cut the engines and they climbed out. Burke led them around to the rear of the shed where corrosion had eaten a hole through the side of it. They walked inside. Two high windows allowed plenty of light in.

"Well, this is where we'll be staging from."

"And what from here?" Chip asked.

"No offence, Chip. But as I've said, I'm playing this one right up against my chest. I hate that you'll be left out of the finale, but this is where we part ways."

"Are you sure that's for the best?" Gadget asked.

"Quite sure. And in the end, even _I_ won't know where these blokes end up."

"No offense, Mr. Burke," Sparky said, "But I would feel much better if at least one of them were to accompany us."

"Well, I'll leave that to you, but I strongly advise against it."

"Thank you, and I don't mean to question your experience in these matters, but it would make me much more comfortable."

"Very well."

"I'll go," Chip quickly volunteered.

"Chip," Gadget said. He turned to look at her, knowing what she wanted. "Let me," she said gently.

He hesitated, conflict in his eyes.

"Please?"

"Gadget…I…I just…,"

She put a hand on his shoulder. "I'll come back. I promise."

He looked down, drew a long breath and let it out slowly. Finally, he nodded.

"Thank you."

"Don't worry, Chip. I'll take care of her."

"Please do."

"We'll be back by daybreak tomorrow."

With a last lingering look at Gadget, he reluctantly left. A minute later, the sound of the Ranger Wing could be heard powering up and departing.

"Sparky, if you'll be so kind as to bring your compatriots here, we'll be on our way. I'll have them taken care of in short order."

"It'll be about a two hour round trip. Maybe as much as three."

"Not a problem. I have things to prepare here. With Gadget's help, I should have things ready well before then."

"Excellent. I'll be as quick as I can." He hurried off.

Burke took a deep breath as he watched him go. He spent a moment staring after him until Gadget came up beside him.

"So what do we need to do?"

"Well…the first thing is to drop the pretence."

"Drop the pretense?"

With the full stroke of his arm, Burke backhanded her across her face and she crashed to the floor, crying out.

"You teasing little quiff," he snarled.

"Burke, what are you-?!"

He kicked her in the stomach and heard the wind explode from her lungs. She writhed on the floor, struggling to draw breath. Burke grabbed her hair in his right fist and lifted her off the ground until she was eye to eye with him.

"Since the moment you first saw me you've been batting those pretty blue eyes at me, shooting me those coy looks, flirting like a slag. But never following through. Oh, yes, you're an ice maiden. But I think I can warm you up."

She was clawing at his fist with both hands, but his grip was like a vise. He grabbed the collar of her coveralls and yanked violently. The fabric split at the shoulder seam and ripped all the way down to her belt. She started kicking her feet and connected solidly with his shin. He grunted and threw her several feet across the room. She landed in a heap, tried to sit up but the pain in her stomach stopped her halfway. She moved her legs, trying to scoot across the floor.

"I don't…understand."

He advanced on her slowly.

"What could you _possibly_ not understand?"

"You…you lied to us!"

"I did nothing of the sort. I told you right off the bat that I specialised in deception. You simply thereafter chose to believe everything I told you. Can't rightly blame _me_ for that, now can you?"

She managed to get her feet under her and started to run, but Burke caught her tail and yanked hard, causing her to stumble backwards into him. He wrapped one arm around her throat, the other around her waist where he clawed at her belt. He put his face in her hair and whispered in her ear.

"I'm really going to enjoy this. You…not so much."

She struggled to pry his arm away from her throat, to just loosen it enough to draw a breath, but the pressure was relentless. He managed to rip the belt from her waist, then reached up and tore at the other side of her collar. She struck out with her feet, found his, and stomped hard. He cried out in pain and his grip loosened enough that she was able to break away, but at the expense of the remainder of the upper part of her coveralls. She ran, almost making it to the opening in the wall, but Burke grabbed a stray lock nut that was lying near him and hurled it at her. It caught her in the back of the head and she crashed into the wall, then to the ground.

"And just where do you think _you're_ going? I'm far from finished with you. You heard the soon to be unfortunate Mr. Sparky. I've got two _hours_ of playtime."

He grabbed her by her ankle and dragged her away from the wall. Gadget kicked at his hand, writhing like a fish that was being reeled in. Blood was seeping from her nose.

"Let me _go_!"

Burke laughed as he reached the middle of the shed and switched from a one handed grip on her ankle to using both hands to grab either leg of her coveralls. He yanked on them and they started to come off. Gadget's struggling was helping them come off faster, but despite the fact it would leave her in only panties and a tee shirt, she was more than willing to part with the garment if it meant that Burke no longer had hold of _her_.

"Don't you just _love_ foreplay?" Burke laughed.

The coveralls came off and Gadget was instantly on her feet and running for the exit. Burke caught up with her easily and shoved her in the back. Out of control, she careened into the wall once more and Burke slammed into her from behind, knocking the wind from her yet again. He pinned her against the wall with his body, using both of his hands to pin both of hers above her head. He rubbed her right cheek with his left and put his lips to her ear.

"I'm going to do things to you that you wouldn't _believe_ were possible if they weren't happening to you," he whispered.

He let go of her with his left hand, running it down her side, then up underneath her tee shirt to roughly squeeze her breast.

"Bra-less for me?" he whispered again. He rubbed his pelvis against her so she would feel how aroused he was. "How sweet."

She ripped one of her arms free of his hand and rammed her elbow into his side. His abdomen was solid muscle and he barely flinched. He used the hand he had hold of to fling her across the room and she tumbled across the floor once more.

The Lady of the Lake didn't exactly hand her Excalibur, but the small rusted piece of quarter inch rebar that lay near her as she rolled to a halt would do almost as well. She snatched it up and rose unsteadily to her feet, still struggling to get a full breath into her abused lungs. She held it in front of her like a Bo staff. Blood was still seeping from her nose, now as well from a laceration on her temple. Her right eye was halfway swollen shut.

"Ooo, kitty found some claws," Burke cooed. He held his hands out in front of him, wiggling his fingers. "You _do_ like foreplay."

"I can't _believe_ I liked you," she growled as they began to circle each other.

"Actually, you never really did," he said.

He reached in a pocket of his blazer and pulled out a small vial filled with a clear liquid. He shook it gently, as though it were some sort of talisman.

"A chemical concentration of my pheromones. I wear it like cologne. Gives me immediate presence in any room I enter, and an imposing demeanor easy to use to my advantage." He put it back in his pocket. "Most don't react strongly beyond that. Certain females react the way you did, and doesn't _that_ always give me a case of the jollies. And of course, some alpha-type males react aggressively, just like that plonker of a chipmunk whose affections you turned down for the likes of me."

"You _drugged_ me?"

"That's a rather elementary way of putting it for someone of your intelligence, but in a word? Yes."

Gadget swung the rebar with a roar. Burke deflected it with his forearm and used his other hand to strike an open-handed uppercut to her chin. Her head snapped back and she stumbled, but held onto her weapon.

"I don't even _know_ a word vile enough to describe you."

"That's all right. I probably already know all of them. I stand insulted."

He dipped his head and spread his arms as though accepting a compliment. The moment his eyes left her she swung again and connected with his side. He grunted in pain and threw a fist at her, but she ducked under it with a shoulder roll and came back up, ready to strike again.

"What are you _really_ doing here?"

"Isn't it obvious? I want the neuro-compliance chips."

"Yes, that's obvious. But why? And why were you chasing Dean Cooper? And Brian's slave operation…how is that connected?"

Burke lunged at her. She sidestepped him and placed a solid blow across his back. It staggered him and he fell to one knee, but he was right back on his feet. He turned back to face her. She was starting to get the unpleasant impression that he was just toying with her. They continued to circle each other.

"I was never chasing Dean Cooper. I was chasing some ninny from NIMH. If I'd gotten my hands on him he'd have had a very unpleasant time telling me everything he knew. But the coward chose suicide instead."

A wave of sorrow swept through her. He was no doubt referring to Sparky's missing companion, Gene.

"He sacrificed himself to keep you from getting those chips. That's not cowardice. It's incomparable bravery."

She feinted a blow from the left, then struck from the right as he dodged into the blow. It caught him squarely on the side of the head and put him down. She pressed the attack, but as she swung at him, he rolled away from her and the rebar connected only with the dirt floor, stinging her hands. She turned to face him as he slowly picked himself up.

_Finally rung _his_ bell once_, Gadget thought.

Burke shook his head to clear it. He scowled at her.

"So who is Dean Cooper?"

"Dean is…or rather _was_…the man you were calling 'Brian's mystery master'. I set you Rangers after his operation because he was my primary competitor. I took great satisfaction in dispatching them both."

He smiled at the look of surprise and shock on her face as his meaning sunk in.

"Exactly. And once I obtain and duplicate those chips, I'll have the best stock in the world. I'll be rich beyond any rational definition of the word. And you…you'll make a fine slave once I've broken you. I may even keep you for myself."

Gadget screamed in rage and charged him. Burke was ready for it and as she struck at him he grabbed the rebar and used her momentum to sling her into the air and slammed her into the ground. He gave her no quarter, and as she lay there stunned, he dropped on top of her, straddling her waist. She flailed at him with her fists. He ignored the assault and struck her face once, twice, thrice, and finally a fourth time, hammer blows, until she lay still, only half-conscious, coughing, blood oozing from both corners of her mouth. He took the collar of her tee shirt in both hands and ripped it down the middle.

Gadget whimpered and tried to get her arms up in front of her. Burke just slapped them away. He took her by the throat, squeezing mercilessly as he leaned down and licked her right breast, then put his lips to her ear.

"Now the _real_ fun begins," he whispered menacingly.

Chip leapt onto his back, wrapping the strand of wire he'd found around Burke's throat. Burke jumped to his feet, flailing at Chip with his arms ineffectually. He bucked and flung himself around, trying to shake Chip loose, but he had either end of the wire wrapped several times around each paw. His arms were crossed in front of him and he was pulling them away from each other, increasing the leverage he had. The wire was cutting painfully into his skin, but he held on. Burke's thrashing about was only helping Chip pull the wire tighter.

Burke stopped trying to buck Chip off of him, realizing it was aiding his strangulation. He continued to thrash at Chip with his arms but simply couldn't reach him. Chip pulled the wire tighter, his rage tapping a strength he didn't know he possessed. Burke backed against a wall and slammed Chip into it. The blow sent waves of pain up and down his spine but he refused to let it distract him. Burke took a step forward and then slammed back into the wall. But Chip held on. Burke was making choking sounds as he tried to draw breath. The sound only inflamed Chip's will.

After slamming Chip into the wall again, Burke staggered forward a few steps and fell to his knees, which released some pressure as Chip bore his own weight again. But as relentless as Burke had ever been, Chip put his foot on Burke's back and pulled harder.

"_Die_," he snarled.

Burke stopped reaching for Chip, started desperately grabbing at his throat trying to pull the wire away but could not gain any purchase. He collapsed to his hands and knees, pulling Chip off of his feet and onto his back again. Chip rose to his knees and then to his feet, standing on Burke's back, straining with his legs, feeling the wire tighten ever so slightly as the pressure began to collapse Burke's throat.

"I…said…_die_!"

With a sickening crunch, Burke's trachea caved in. The sudden release of tension on the garrote, combined with Burke collapsing threw Chip to the ground. He opened his hands, disentangled the wire from them, stood, and looked down at Burke. His mouth was moving as he tried to move air through his ruined throat. His eyes were looking up at Chip in shock, as though he simply couldn't _believe_ he'd come to his end at the hands of a chipmunk half his size.

Perhaps it was wrong to feel satisfaction as he watched the life fade from Burke's eyes, but he felt it anyway. Quickly, he turned to Gadget. She was sitting half upright, leaning on her left arm. Her right eye was swollen shut, her face battered and covered in blood. Her torn shirt hung from her shoulders, exposing her breasts. Blood and dirt streaked her golden hair. But she was alive and un-violated.

Chip rushed to her, tearing off his bomber jacket. He covered her with it and helped her to sit up.

"Chip," Gadget sobbed. She put her arms around his neck, clung to him desperately.

"It's okay. I'm here. I've got you."

"Chip..."

"Shhh. Quiet now. I'm getting you out of here."

He gently lifted her into his arms. It took several minutes to get her to the Ranger Wing, which was parked behind a pile of crushed rock on the other side of the lot. He laid her gently on the rear seat, kissed her forehead even more gently, and climbed into the pilot seat. The flight home seemed to take an eternity, and once there he had to carefully maneuver the craft to land it on the lower level instead of in front of the hangar. He shouted for help and the gang came running, stopping in shock and horror when they saw Chip lifting Gadget's battered body off the rear seat.

"What'n the 'ell 'appened?"

"_Burke_ happened. He's been playing us all since the very beginning." He gently handed her down to Monty, who carried her inside as Chip jumped down from the wing. Foxglove rushed to grab her first aid kit as Monty carried her to her room and lay her on the bed. In only moments, Foxy returned and started examining her.

"My God," she whispered. She looked up. "Chip, will you get me two bowls of lukewarm water and a few clean dish rags?"

He nodded and dashed away.

"Everyone else out."

Monty started to protest, but Foxy pinned him with a stern, unyielding stare. He, Zipper, and Dale all left. She lifted Chip's jacket off of Gadget, took a pair of scissors from the first aid kit and cut away the remains of her shirt. She then retrieved a fresh one from Gadget's dresser. She folded it lengthwise neatly in half and laid it over Gadget's breasts. A quick examination of her lower body revealed nothing more serious than abrasions and she pulled a sheet above her waist.

"What did he do to you?" she said softly.

Gadget smiled weakly. Her voice was also weak. "Nothing that won't heal."

Chip returned with the water and rags and sat them next to Foxglove, then crouched next to the other side of the bed and took Gadget's hand. She turned her head to look at him.

"My hero."

He kissed her hand. "Anything for you."

"How did you know to come back?"

"Gadget, try not to speak now," Foxy admonished gently.

"I didn't. Not for sure. But the way he shot down Brian and his boss…it bothered me. There was something about his explanation that just didn't have a lick of truth to it. And suddenly as I looked back…nothing at all about him seemed quite right. I couldn't accuse him of anything without proof. But I wasn't about to leave you there alone with him." He looked down sadly.

"But I did. Just for a couple of minutes, but I did. This…this is my fault. I should've-."

Gadget squeezed his hand.

"No. No, you can't say that."

"Gadget," Foxy said a little more sternly. She was dabbing gently at her face with a wet cloth, trying to clear away the dirt and blood so she could treat her injuries. She looked at Chip.

"I know you don't want to, but it would be better for her if you left."

He hesitated a moment, then nodded. He kissed Gadget's hand again and left, pausing to look back at her as he closed the door behind him. The others were in the main room waiting and when Chip entered they began bombarding him with questions. He held his hands up and had to speak over them.

"I don't know, I don't know! Burke wanted us both to leave. Sparky wanted one of us to stay. But I didn't want to leave Gadget alone with him. So I repositioned the Ranger Wing across the way a bit and sneaked back. I was going to stay out of sight and just keep an eye on them, but when I got back Burke was trying to rape her. I grabbed a piece of wire, jumped on him from behind, and strangled him."

"Strangled 'im?" Monty said with surprise.

"You mean you _killed_ him?" Dale asked incredulously.

"Damn right I did. And the only reason I'd want him alive right now is so I could _kill_ him again."

There was a brief stunned silence in the room.

"What about Sparky an' 'is mates?"

"Sparky is bringing them back to Burke's rendezvous site. But I don't know when. I assume it would take a couple of hours. I'll ask Gadget when Foxy's done with her.

"You said he was…_trying_…to rape her?" Monty asked. Chip nodded.

"Yes. Trying. I got there in time. To stop that, anyway." He looked at the floor and sighed, riddled with guilt. "I shouldn't have left her with him, Monty. I shouldn't have left her there alone."

Monty put both his hands on Chip's shoulders and looked in his eyes.

"Chippah…you 'ave a listen to me now. And listen good. You saved her. You had the bearing and foresight to see something in Burke that no one else could see. So that you would be there for her when she needed ya. An' then you had the fortitude and strength to take down a man that was twice your size. He coulda squashed you like a bug but you risked your life to save 'ers. You're a hero. To her, and to us. You 'ear me?"

Chip nodded.

"Good man. Now…what're we gonna do about Sparky?"

"There's really only two options. You, Zipper, and Dale will head back to the rendezvous site with the Ranger Wing and the Ranger Plane. I'll get a map and show you where it's at. Don and Marlene will be out in the open and exposed. They'll have to chose to either go back to their hideout until we can come up with some kind of plan, or squeeze whoever will fit into the aircraft, pick a direction, and go."

"You're not going?"

"We can only afford one pilot per craft. We need as much room as possible for the others. And I'm _not_ leaving Gadget."

Monty nodded. "Then that's what we'll do."

They spent the next half-hour pacing the room until Foxglove emerged. They all turned questioning eyes on her.

"She's going to be fine. She's beat up pretty good, and in a lot of pain, but no life-threatening injuries. The worst of it is that eye. I'll have to keep close watch on it for a few days. A pretty bad cut on her forehead. Mild concussion. Broken nose. Her whole face will be purple by tomorrow. A couple of bruised ribs. And she's lost two teeth. I've given her a sedative and something for the pain. For now, the best thing for her is rest." She looked at Chip. "She's asking for you." He started that way but Foxy put her hand on his shoulder and looked at him sternly. "Be brief. And then I'll have a look at those hands."

He looked at his hands, only now realizing they were caked with dried blood from where his makeshift garrote had cut into them. He nodded and went to her. He opened the door slowly. Her face was clean and bandaged, but almost looked worse than it had because of it. The heat of the moment was gone, the rage and adrenaline no longer coursing through his body and the full impact of what had happened to her, what he'd almost lost, finally hit him. His knees got weak and he had to lean against the doorframe for a moment. He took a deep breath and entered the room. She smiled when she saw him. He approached the bed and knelt beside it. He gently took her hand in both of his. He stared at her, drinking in the sight of her, for the moment unable to speak.

"Hey," she rasped after a few moments.

"Hey," he replied in a shaky voice. It was with tremendous effort that he held back tears. "How ya doin'?"

"Better now. Thank you. I owe you everything."

"You'd have done the same for me."

"Nah. No need. Something tells me Burke wouldn't have tried to rape _you_."

Chip let out a short laugh. Her brave attempt at humor made him unable to keep the tears at bay.

"No, probably not." He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "He'll never hurt anyone again."

"Thanks to you." Her words were becoming thick.

"Gadget, when was Sparky going to be back with the others?"

"He said…two or three hours."

"Back at the maintenance shed?"

"Mmm hmm."

He squeezed her hand. "Okay. Now get some rest."

She held onto him. "Wait. I have…to tell you…"

"It can wait."

"No. Burke. He…drugged me…drugged _us_…pheromones."

She was struggling to keep her eye open.

"Shhh. Later." He tried to pull away, but she held fast,

"That's why…acted strange…turned you down…not…clear headed."

"It's okay. It's all okay now."

"Love…you."

Sleep took her. Chip continued to hold her hand a moment, her last two words ringing in his ears. He lay her hand gently across her stomach, stood and kissed her forehead.

"I love you too."

* * *

Don and Marlene chose to leave the city immediately, given current events. They managed to squeeze all but one of their group into the Rescue Ranger's aircraft. Sparky volunteered to stay behind, wanting to return to MIT. The rest of them headed north towards unpopulated areas, figuring they would be safest in the country. There were a lot of farms that way and an out of the way barn could make quite a comfy home.

Gadget was all but bedridden for a week, and recounted her few minutes alone with Burke, and what he'd revealed to her, for the others from there. Chip never left her side. Her recovery was slow. The romance that developed between her and Chip was anything but. Before the last bandage was removed, Chip asked her to marry him. She happily accepted his proposal, but wanted to wait until she was fully recovered for the ceremony. He understood perfectly.

Their encounter with the mouse calling himself Walter Burke changed them all indelibly. Though they'd always known it was out there, they had never previously dealt with evil of that caliber. It made the world seem a just a little bit darker. But it also brought them closer together as a group, made them that much more dedicated to their work. There were people out there every day desperately reaching for a helping hand.

The Rescue Rangers would always be there to provide one.

* * *

_So quite a few "shout outs" included in this story. Here they are, in order of appearance:_

_The name Walter Burke is taken from the movie "The Recruit" and is one of only a few subtle clues of Burke's true nature._

_The appellation "Benny Buns" is a personal tribute to a man too soon gone from this world._

_The address of Tiny's Bar, 11th and Bleeker, is the address of April O'Neil's Apartment/Antique Shop in the original (1990) "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles" movie._

_The massive bartender with a squeaky voice gag is taken directly from the Talespin episode "Bringing Down Babyface"._

_The Vic Fontaine persona is exactly as portrayed by James Darren on Star Trek: Deep Space Nine...except that I turned him into a chipmunk. Incidentally, for those not familiar with his work, the songs referenced in the Acorn Club sequence are all off Darren's exceptional "This One's From The Heart" album._

_The character Jimmy V is a nod to the late great basketball coach Jim Valvano, who died of bone cancer in 1993. If you don't know who he was, even if you couldn't care less about sports, you really need to look him up. His speech at the 1993 Espy Awards is one of the most inspiring speeches for hope in the fight against cancer ever given._

_The character names in the prisoner rescue sequence are all borrowed from the movie "Donnie Brasco"._

_Two great lines from two great movies in the diner sequence: Count Rugen's "I think that's the worst thing I ever heard. How marvelous." from "The Princess Bride" and Han Solo's famous quip "I don't know, I can imagine quite a bit."_

_Bianca, Bernard, and the RAS are from Disney's "The Rescuers"._

_The name "neuro-compliance chip" is taken from the Kim Possible episode "The Twin Factor"._

_When Dale attempts to make a joke during the raid on the harbor, he is quoting Lt. Harris from "Police Academy"._

_The names of the RAS agents are all taken from Robert C. O'Brian's Newberry Medal winning "Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH"._

_Hope you enjoyed, and were caught completely by surprise to find Burke was the bad guy. If not, let me know what tipped you off (PM, please no spoilers) so I can judge whether I just didn't do a good enough job at deception, or that you're an exceptionally astute reader._

_GW_


End file.
